Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time
by Calanor
Summary: Time travel. It's always about Potter. Draco Malfoy doesn't like that fact, but there is no one else who has the power to change the world. Sending his memories to his younger self he hopes to create a better future. Intelligent Grey Draco. No slash.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I make absolutely no money from this

**Warnings:** This story contains or will contain offensive language, some violence, mind-rape, character death and adult themes.

**Pairings:** Characters will go through several relationships in the story. As of chapter 15 the only one in progress is Draco/Daphne. It will be Draco/Ginny in the end in one way or another. Neville/Hermione is highly likely. There will be absolutely no slash.

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

The ancient wizard checked the rune clusters one last time before taking a deep breath. Everything was ready for the first stage. Finally, after three decades of preparation he could set his plan in motion. He took his place at the edge of the rune-covered ritual chamber with the stone altar in the center. A small table directly by his side allowed him easy access to the few objects he would need to accomplish his goals.

With an intense look of concentration he gathered all his power and spoke the words that activated some of the runes, starting the ritual.

A lens of blue light formed above the stone altar, showing the exact same room on the other side without the lens. The wizard made some gestures, and the lens focused on the wizard himself. Another set of gestures later the image was in fast reverse, showing the wizard setting up the ritual chamber. The wizard closed his eyes. It would be quite some time until it reached the timeframe he wanted, and the other things would be too painful to watch. Instead he used the time to mentally go over all his preparations once again. Even the tiniest mistake would be catastrophic.

He was an above average wizard in almost all regards, yes, but he was neither exceptionally powerful nor could he be considered a genius. The one outstanding magical talent he possessed hadn't been recognized until he was well above sixty, and even then only by chance. He was exceptionally talented in the field of divination. Not the crap that fraud Trelawney taught during his time at Hogwarts, no, he couldn't look into the future even if his life depended on it. Not even using the correct methods Trelawney had never known. What he could do was look into the present and with some limitations into the past. By now he was good enough that he could use a muddy puddle by the wayside to scry on any random person or object on the planet even through the most powerful of wards.

It was only through this talent that he had been able to get as far as he had. After many years of poking through the rubble of ruined cities and digging up graves in deserts and jungles he had assembled the knowledge and materials to set up this ritual in his hideout high in the Andes Mountains. Even more years of careful examination of the past had yielded the necessary course of action. It was a desperate gamble, but he had nothing to lose by this point. Only a few scattered magicals remained in the world, and their numbers were falling fast. There were still a lot of non-magicals left, but they were either under the yoke of their 'light' masters or served as food to their 'dark' counterparts. In the opinion of the wizard it wasn't a world worth living in.

Which was why he had set out to change the past that had led to this world.

When he opened his eyes he saw that the lens showed him seeing off his son. The boy had been promising at first, but in the end he had been a disappointment and only found an early grave in his quest for power when the next Dark Lord rose. It had been the end of the wizard's family line. The wizard watched in disgust as the actions of his younger self during his Hogwarts years came into view. He really had been a pathetic little shit. That made what he planned to do much easier to stomach. But that had to wait; he had to begin his changes with another target. When the lens showed the right time frame he stopped the movement along the temporal axis, took a lock of black hair into his spidery fingers and murmured an incantation.

The view changed and now showed a young kid with black hair and green eyes. A beautiful red-haired woman with similar green eyes was currently tucking the child into bed. A man sporting messy black hair was watching the scene from the door with a smile on his lips.

'_Potter, it always comes down to Potter.'_

It was galling that he would have to rely on Potter of all people, but the boy was simply the most powerful wizard on the planet he had any chance of recruiting. Or he could have been had he been allowed to reach his potential. Thanks to the plans of a meddlesome old man he had fallen far short of what he could have been. Potter hadn't even reached forty; he had been stabbed to death when he tried to break up a drunken brawl while working as an auror. The wizard watched with some amount of sympathy the woman singing the boy to sleep. After the night Potter would be orphaned and at the mercy of his aunt and uncle. The pair of them could be used as prime examples to show the barbarism of muggles, but in the end they were only pawns in Dumbledore's schemes. He really wished he could spare Potter from those years.

Unfortunately, he couldn't. He would only be able to change very few things, and he didn't have the power to go directly against Dumbledore or the half-blood bastard Riddle. When he saw Lily Potter leave the room and close the door behind her he took a small crystal and his wand from the table and prepared himself. He had only a very limited amount of time to do what he had to. After the first few syllables of a very complex incantation had left his lips all formerly inactive runes flared to life, along with exactly one hundred fist-sized crystals surrounding the room. They would serve to power the second stage of the ritual; a feat he would never have achieved on his own. Each crystal held the life essence of one human being that the wizard had murdered, but that didn't disturb him in the slightest. He had long discarded the remnants of the pitiful things that had served as his morals. Five Dark Lords each far more powerful and terrible than Voldemort who had tried to achieve world domination (two of which even had achieved that goal, albeit temporarily), three world wars and finally the coming of _them_ had seen to it. The humans today were better off dead anyway.

When the power reached the lens it changed; the image becoming clearer and more real. Now it wasn't only a window but a genuine portal into the past. Although almost nothing could pass through it, some specifically adapted spells could. The wizard immediately began casting some very elaborate spells on the sleeping boy. They were all protective in nature, but they would lie dormant and undetectable until they were specifically activated. Hopefully they would alleviate the damage Riddle, Dumbledore and the boy's relatives would do to him and allow a speedy recovery later.

After he finished casting the necessary paradox-resistant spells the wizard shifted the portal some years into the relative future and back to his original focus, another sleeping boy. He really wished that he could simply send his own consciousness back, but the portal didn't work that way. Neither could he simply copy his complete personality over the one of his younger self. The wizard knew that by now he was hopelessly evil and not a little insane, both traits which would be more a hindrance to his plans.

Fortunately he could work around that. The wizard began by mind-raping his younger self into a more useful state. It was delicate work, but it would lead to a fundamentally different personality. Considering how he had behaved until he had reached his twenties he was doing his younger self a favor. It wasn't an especially happy life he had lived, partially through his own fault. When he was finished he held his wand to his head and began fishing memories out of his head and directing them through the portal into the head of his younger self. Suddenly he felt an attack on the wards of his hideout.

'_Ah, _they_ have noticed what I'm doing. No matter, in a few minutes nothing will matter anymore.'_

The wards of his hideout wouldn't hold long – nothing could against beings of _their_ power once _they_ noticed you – but he had layered almost five hundred of the most powerful wards he could create one over another. That would give him around four minutes before _they_ broke through.

After the last silvery strands passed the portal and entered the head of his younger self and he finished the last spells he allowed himself to relax and wipe the sweat from his bald head. He had done all he could. Hopefully this world would cease to exist due to his meddling in the past before _they_ could get to him. He took a deep gulp from a goblet full of poison to prepare for the… unpleasant possibility that he was wrong about how the time travel worked. With a wave of his hand he closed the portal and activated the self-destruct of the rune clusters. Absentmindedly he noticed that ninety blood crystals had been exhausted, meaning he could have done without the effort of killing ten more people and harvesting their life force. On the other hand, it was better to have some reserves and don't need them than the other way around.

Smiling contently, one hundred and forty year-old Draco Malfoy sat down in a ready chair. Potter was protected as best as he could manage, his younger self would hopefully become something better than an arrogant, cowardly and stupid little git, and his grandfather Abraxas would take care of some other things if he survived the dragon pox thanks to his meddling. Without Lucius free to do as he pleased things would hopefully go better than they had in his real past.

Shortly before the last of the wards fell the old man succumbed to the poison, never noticing that the ten unused blood crystals had dumped their power into the not completely closed portal before it flickered out of existence.

* * *

><p>Six year-old Draco Malfoy was having a nightmare. He was trapped in a torture chamber and someone was sticking blazing hot irons into his head. The pain was simply unbearable, but he couldn't even scream. Suddenly the pain ended, and Draco woke up. Only he wasn't lying in his bed anymore.<p>

He was sitting in the manor's parlor, but he wasn't alone. In the armchair of his grandfather an incredibly old-looking man was sitting, watching him with a scary smile and expression that send shivers down Draco's spine.

"Hello Draco, I'm sure you are wondering what is happening. To cut things short, I'm you. Or rather the you from more than a hundred years in the future. As you can see, time wasn't especially kind to us. After decades of trying I found a way to send part of my memories back in time. Currently they are mostly locked away. I recommend that you learn occlumency as quickly as possible; the instructions are included in my memories. Depending on your progress more memories will unlock. In the meantime your mind will be protected by a spell, but it will fade in a few months."

The man sighed deeply. "As you can guess our future wasn't especially nice for me to try and change it. I left you instructions for what you have to do in the near future and a lot of contingency plans as well as knowledge, but it will be up to you to decide on actions. First thing next morning you will talk with your grandfather and tell him you had a vision. Get him to read your mind. I have prepared something that will convince him to take certain actions. Play along. Oh, and don't listen to anything our father says." He fixed Draco with a glare. "You have only this one chance. Don't screw this up, young man."

Everything went black.

When Draco woke up again his heart was pounding and he was drenched in sweat. Fortunately this time he was lying in his bed. He had a monstrous headache which caused him to whimper and bury his head in the pillow. The pain decreased after a few minutes and disappeared finally completely. Relaxing a bit, Draco tried to determine if he had only dreamt that conversation. His thoughts felt different; it was as if he was thinking clearer and faster. The first thing he found was a detailed instruction for learning occlumency that he definitely hadn't known yesterday. Another thing was the memory of a vision foretelling the end of the Malfoy line along with a demand to speak with his grandfather and a lot of speech in a language he couldn't understand. Other than that there were only very general ideas accessible. The only thing that made sense was the information that his future son had died without issue and he himself had been the last Malfoy. Draco had already been drilled in the importance of continuing the family line, meaning that fact alone would have been a valid reason to return to the past. Unfortunately he had the distinct impression that the true reason was far worse. He fell asleep again before he could ponder anymore ideas.

When he woke next dim light was seeping through the windows. After he checked his memories again (yes, the instructions were still there) he sighed and got up from his bed. His parents would be still sleeping, but his grandfather tended to get up early. Draco took a quick shower in the bathroom before he returned to his room to get dressed. When he entered the room he strode purposefully to his wardrobe, but suddenly he stumbled over something that cried out. He almost fell, but managed to catch himself in time. Turning around, he saw one of their house elves wringing his hands. Apparently he had been cleaning under his bed and Draco had stumbled over his protruding legs.

"Dobby is sorry, almost caused little master to fall. Dobby will iron his hands for his mistake."

Draco was about to yell at him when a new thought entered his mind. _'It is stupid to mistreat servants that know many of your secrets.'_ Blinking, he tried to make sense of this line of thought. No explicit memories were forthcoming, but he found some abstract information about loyalty and appropriate treatment of servants. Deciding to trust his new thoughts, he forcefully calmed himself down.

"Forget about it; it wasn't your fault. I should have been looking were I was going."

The elf froze and gaped at him open mouthed.

An additional idea entered his mind. "Dobby, I order you to never punish yourself unless you receive a direct order to do so. Tell the other elves the same." Draco knew he had only limited authority over the elves, but that should work. He wasn't sure why he did it; it just seemed to be a good idea.

Apparently it was enough to break the elf out of his shock. "Little master must be joking. Never before little master has treated any of us nicely."

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Do you question my orders?"

That caused him to shut up. From his facial expression he couldn't make sense out of Draco's instruction and was fighting quite an inner conflict. Questioning his orders would normally require him to punish himself, but that in turn would violate his new orders.

"You may go." Draco waved him away.

The little guy seemed terribly confused when he popped away. Draco shook his head while he got dressed. House elves were strange. At the breakfast table the elf serving him shot him strange looks when he thought Draco wasn't looking. Apparently Dobby had already relayed his orders.

"Is my grandfather already awake?" he questioned the elf.

"Old master has requested his morning tea and newspaper a few minutes ago."

Draco nodded an acknowledgement, which seemed to confuse the elf. Had he really been that cruel to the servants before so that minimal signs of polite treatment caused them that much confusion? When he made his way to the rooms of his grandfather in a different wing of the mansion he realized that his vocabulary had massively increased. If he compared his memories from a few days before with now his thoughts were drastically more mature. Shaking off these thoughts, he gathered his courage before knocking on the doors to his grandfather's suite.

"Grandfather, it's me, Draco. May I come in?"

* * *

><p>Abraxas Malfoy sipped his tea while going through the social section of the Daily Prophet. He rarely went out into society anymore; his age was catching up with him. He was only going on ninety, but he hadn't been as careful with his body in his youth as he should have been and was now paying the price. That didn't mean he couldn't keep up with the news; he still had many connections and could offer advice. If only his son would listen to him.<p>

'_Where have I gone wrong with the boy?'_

The rift had begun long ago, during Lucius' time at Hogwarts. Somehow his son had ended up in circles that would later become the Death Eaters and swore allegiance to the newest Dark Lord. At the time Abraxas had seen nothing wrong with Voldemort's agenda. Abraxas was a firm believer in the superiority of purebloods himself, but he didn't shout out his opinion to the world at large. That only got in the way of his political work. An insult like mudblood would never come across his lips, and if a muggleborn had useful skills Abraxas made use of them if he could. There was no sense in ignoring useful tools and connections, after all. In that regard he was a lot like his old friend Horace Slughorn.

After a lot of thought he had decided to quietly fund Voldemort's organization. Many old families had lost a lot of power after Dumbledore pushed his agenda after the Grindelwald war, and he had seen it as an opportunity to tip the balance back to a more palatable state of affairs. Voldemort was very charismatic, and a political movement from an independent source would be very helpful. Unfortunately, Voldemort had turned out to be a murderous psychopath and his son had proven an idiot. He had let himself be branded like cattle and kissed the feet of this self-styled lord without a family name. It was one thing to support such a man in the pursuit of one's political agenda, serving him like a slave was quite another. Malfoys weren't minions or thugs; they were allies that worked quietly behind the scenes or sometimes in the spotlight of the political or business arena.

His son would have none of it; he was too arrogant to see the situation for what it was. He gallivanted around in this silly mask and spent his time like a brutish thug torturing muggles and wizards alike. Abraxas would have liked nothing better than to disinherit the fool, but because he lacked another heir he had been forced to grit his teeth and pretend everything was fine. Over time the entire Voldemort situation had spiraled out of control into a civil war that was doing more damage to the purebloods than to anyone else.

He had brokered a good marriage with a sensible woman from the respectable Black family for his son, but it had taken a long-lasting love potion until the two finally produced an heir. Unfortunately, as a side-effect it had caused Narcissa to go along with much of what Lucius did. Really, choosing one of his Death Eater pals as godfather for his grandson was bad enough, but had it to be the half-blood son of a muggle? Granted, the young man was an excellent potions master, but you didn't take such people into the family, you employed them.

Things in Britain had become steadily worse, and Abraxas had begun to entertain thoughts of simply fleeing the country together with his grandson. Then Voldemort got himself killed somehow, and his entire organization fell apart with a curious speed. There were many highly suspicious things going on, like the entire Boy-who-lived circus, but Abraxas had been too busy at the time to investigate much. It was all he could do to keep his son out of prison, and that had cost them a lot of money and quite a few favors other people owed him. Naturally, the ungrateful idiot thought it was his own brilliance of pleading the Imperius that had saved him. Lucius had some talent as a manipulator, but most of his achievements were the result of the family money, connections Abraxas had made or simple incompetence or fear on the side of the people his son bribed or intimidated. Abraxas had even heard Lucius had openly threatened someone with being hexed to get his way. That was a cardinal sin in Abraxas' book, you only resorted to intimidation in the direst of circumstances and even then you only implied. If you had to kill someone that someone should never see it coming. A Malfoy couldn't sink much lower.

Unfortunately it seemed that his grandson tried to undercut this low level even further. He was still young, but Abraxas simply couldn't stand his constant whining and sense of entitlement. It didn't help that his parents spoiled him rotten on the one hand and heaped exaggerated expectations onto him on the other hand. All in all he promised to develop into an even poorer copy of his already poor example of a son. Abraxas simply didn't have the vitality or energy left to do something about it. He was even considering relinquishing even more power to his son; someone had to fulfill these duties and he was becoming too frail to do so.

A knock on the door interrupted his musings.

"Grandfather, it's me, Draco. May I come in?"

Abraxas was surprised. Normally his grandson slept much longer, and he didn't deliberately visit him normally. He laid the newspaper back on the table and straightened himself.

"Come in, Draco."

When the door opened and Draco entered the room Abraxas wrinkled his brow. Something was different about his grandson. He pondered the issue while they exchanged greetings until it hit him. It was how Draco carried himself. Lately he had developed an air of arrogance and entitlement, but it was missing this morning. Instead Draco seemed confused and somewhat shaken.

"Grandfather, last night I had a strange dream. It seemed so real. There was this old man who looked familiar and he told me a lot of stuff of how I should change my life. Then he said I should talk to you about lega-, no, legilimency and continued talking in a language I couldn't understand."

Abraxas was meanwhile choking on his tea. He had expected some attempt at wheedling out presents from him, but not that his grandson had a vision. The Malfoys possessed a touch of seer blood with a necromantic slant, but it manifested rarely and in a strange way. He himself had seen two visions in his life. The first one had led him onto a quite profitable journey across the Middle East after his Hogwarts years while the second had prevented him from joining Grindelwald before he began his war. In both cases it had been a deceased family member who gave him the advice. In the journals of his father he had found a similar occurrence, and his deceased older brother had told him of such a dream before. Only he hadn't heeded the advice, and promptly lost his life in a Quidditch accident. From what Abraxas had pieced together a Malfoy only saw such a vision at a turning point of his life, enabling him to avoid disaster. For his grandson to see such a thing at such a young age was completely unprecedented. Even stranger was the request about legilimency. Abraxas was very well versed in the mind arts, and he could manage to read a recent memory without problems.

Finally he managed to get the liquid out of his throat. "What did the language sounded like?"

Draco scrunched his face in concentration and produced some sounds which could be interpreted as horribly mispronounced ancient Greek. Abraxas spoke it fluently, but he would have to watch the memory himself to understand what was said. On such occasions he fervently wished he still possessed his pensieve, but his foolish son had given it to Voldemort who had it squirreled away somewhere they couldn't find. New ones were extraordinarily hard to come by; it took most enchanters and rune masters five years of hard work to create a truly good pensieve. Unfortunately that meant that the prices were astronomic, and the current liquid assets of the Malfoy fortune were too scarce to afford such a thing.

"Draco, I will have to watch your memory myself to understand what happened. I will use a spell to do so. Try to relax and don't panic. It would be good if you concentrate on the memory. Ready?"

The boy gave him a nervous nod. Abraxas readied his wand and began casting. "Legilimens!"

A few minutes later a very shaken Abraxas extracted himself from his grandson's mind and sent the boy back to his room with a few kind words. It had been a genuine vision. The man had been Abraxas own father; he looked exactly like he had immediately before his death, had spoken in the same manner and knew things no other person could have learned. It was no wonder Draco hadn't recognized him, his portrait showed a much younger version of him. After giving Draco a bit of general and very sensible advice, the most prominent of which was to stop listening to his father, he had switched to ancient Greek, a language Draco couldn't understand. Considering the content of the message Abraxas thought it very wise, it wouldn't do to burden a six year old with this knowledge. He wondered briefly why he hadn't received the message himself, but perhaps there were unknown limitations.

The message told of the almost inevitable ruin of house Malfoy and his own death only two months in the future. There was a way to avoid it, but it would be difficult. Shoving it to the back of his mind, Abraxas made to leave his quarters. There was a way to prove the truth of the vision, and it would be a necessary step to the proposed plan anyway. Half an hour later Abraxas stared at the book in his hands. It was the personal notebook of his long-deceased great-aunt who had been a famous potions mistress. At the end of her life she had grown quite paranoid and had hidden her notebook where nobody could find it for decades. And now the vision of his grandson had told him the exact hiding place. Skimming through the pages he found that most things while interesting were rather useless from a practical standpoint. Finally he found what he was searching for. The Brew of the Healthy End would give him around seven years of life with immunity against every known illness while simultaneously curing all afflictions of old age. The only downside was that it would inevitably kill him after the seven years were over and it required a small moonsilver cauldron to brew that would be destroyed in the process. It would be impossible to replace it because it required alchemy to create, and the few alchemists who were left in the world didn't sell their products. One was in storage from a Malfoy ancestor who had dabbled in alchemy, but to his knowledge it was the only one left in all of Britain and possibly Europe.

There was only one question remaining, and that was if he wanted to follow the proposed plan. Only living seven more years was no problem for him, he doubted he would make it that long without the potion. At least he would be healthy once again. Neither was teaching Draco a problem. The boy had been very shaken, and it would be easy to form him into a worthy heir if Abraxas was strong enough to invest the necessary effort. No, it was the other part of the plan that gave him doubts, especially because he couldn't see the reason for it himself and would have to rely on the word of the vision. He himself had some contacts into the muggle world, but introducing his grandson at this age seemed premature.

After an hour of contemplation Abraxas came to a decision. Each Malfoy who had followed these visions had prospered while those who disregarded them had come to a premature end. Abraxas nodded to himself, he would follow the plan. Time to break out his old potions lab, he had things to brew and research.

* * *

><p>The potion had been extraordinarily difficult to brew, but it had been worth it. Abraxas felt the pain in his joints that had been his constant companion in the last years fade. He didn't feel exactly young, but now he had regained the drive and energy that had been missing for so long. Now he had to get his grandson out from under his son's thumb. Which was the reason he was now talking to Draco in his study; he had to reinforce Draco's friendly feelings for him.<p>

"You did very well in coming to me with that vision, Draco. Now, what would you like as a present?"

Draco scrunched his face in obvious thought for more than a minute. The answer that finally came was totally unexpected. "I would like a little brother or sister."

Not letting his shock show, Abraxas patted his grandson's head. "I'll see what I can do."

When he was alone Abraxas leaned back in his chair and thought about his grandson's request. He had expected a broom or a pony or something like it, but not a sibling. On the other hand, Draco had only very limited contact with other children and was probably lonely. That didn't make his wish any easier to fulfill. Abraxas himself would have appreciated more grandchildren. In his youth each Old Family had adhered to the model of at least an heir and a spare. His own wife had died in a portkey accident before they could produce any more offspring, and he had never remarried. He was pretty sure Narcissa wanted a daughter, but that was impossible. Even with magic Draco's birth had been difficult, and he knew it would be impossible for her to have any more children.

That left blood adoption, but it was illegal and children who nobody would miss were hard to come by. Especially pure-blooded children; Abraxas would never even consider to include anyone else in the Malfoy family. It would have been extraordinarily useful if the family had more young members, the Old Families were already dwindling to nothing. Immediately after the war things had been easier, but by now everything was settled. He would make it known to the appropriate contacts that he was looking, but in all likelihood he would not be able to fulfill his grandson's wish.

* * *

><p>"Honey, do you know where I have left the manuscript for the article about the crumple-horned snorkacks?" the voice of Xeno Lovegood rang out.<p>

"Most likely on your desk, dear." Selene Lovegood answered absentmindedly. She was currently working on a device that would revolutionize time travel done via time turners by analyzing the time stream beforehand, and it required her full concentration. Little Luna was currently napping on a chair at the other end of the room, meaning there were few distractions. Still, there was something wrong with the custom spells that powered the device. There wasn't any time travel going on in the vicinity of her house as far as she knew, but the spells stubbornly showed some anomaly. If she was reading things right there seemed to be a tunnel-like construct that was trashing wildly through the time stream.

Selene adjusted one of the spells slightly to get a better look, but before she could do more her husband engulfed her from behind to give her a goodbye kiss. None of them ever realized what was happening when the device made contact with the time travel spell of the elder Draco and an enormous amount of magical power was released in a completely uncontrolled fashion. Xeno and Selene Lovegood were instantly disintegrated, along with the majority of the surrounding building. The magical interference of the discharge was strong enough to burn out part of the magical detection grid and delay responses by the ministry while everyone scrambled to find out what had happened.

* * *

><p>The man who most often called himself Arthur Smith (at least when he was doing business in Magical Britain) was the first person to arrive at the scene of the catastrophe. He had been on a delivery run using his (illegal) invisible magical carpet to transport some goods of a rare, expensive and highly illegal nature when he saw the house disintegrate in the distance and chose to investigate.<p>

The adults Arthur knew lived here were beyond help judging from the fact that only a very few parts of their bodies still remained. The child was miraculously unharmed, even if she was unconscious. It was strange; some parts of the building were completely intact while many more were simply turned to dust. He wondered what he could scavenge before he had to skive off when he remembered a request one of his business partners had issued.

Arthur didn't know for what purpose old Abraxas wanted a young pureblood child – the possibilities ranged from illegal to sickening – and he didn't care. All he needed to know was that Abraxas Malfoy was trustworthy in his deals and paid good money, even if the man was paranoid with his use of unbreakable vows and memory charms to keep everything secret. Not that it really mattered to Arthur, money was money and he didn't plan on telling anyone how it came to be in his possession.

Deciding quickly, he used one very obscure spell to create a dead copy of the body, stunned the unconscious girl for good measure, disillusioned her and made off to his hidden carpet.

* * *

><p>Abraxas sighed while reading the Daily Prophet at the breakfast table. The previous step of his plan had been a full success. His precious cargo was safely stored and sedated with some Draught of the Living Death, and now the newspaper confirmed that nobody even suspected a thing. The clink of falling silverware indicated that the next step of the plan was well underway.<p>

When he looked up he saw that all three remaining family members were staring straight ahead with an empty expression thanks to the potion he had mixed with their tea. It disabled their conscious will much like a mix between an Imperius-curse, veritaserum and a subsequent obliviation, but it worked only for a short time and it was far more difficult to brew it instead of simply using the spells. On the positive side it didn't leave any traces. He had given the house elves strict orders not to be disturbed, and he wouldn't need long for what he had to do.

"Narcissa, what would you give for a daughter?"

"Everything, Lord Malfoy." she answered in a monotone voice.

Abraxas fished a crystal phial out of his pocket. "If you are willing fill this phial with your blood. Take care to keep your injury minimal." He watched dispassionately as his daughter-in-law did just that and cast a healing spell on her wound as well as a cleaning spell on the knife she had used. If the next one wasn't as willing matters would get complicated.

"Lucius, are you willing to give a few drops of blood for a daughter? She would be a very valuable commodity to garner political support."

Abraxas watched with some amount of trepidation the indecision play over the face of his son. If he wasn't willing to shed a few drops of blood he would have to use his own, and that could easily lead to awkward questions later. Fortunately the idea of a gaining a political bargaining chip seemed enough, and Lucius filled a second phial with his blood. Abraxas pocketed the phials, vanished the tainted tea, removed all traces of what happened and continued reading the newspaper. The magical rules of free will were so easy to circumvent if you were unscrupulous enough. A few minutes later the sounds of breakfast resumed as if nothing had happened. When Abraxas folded the Daily Prophet today's headlines became briefly visible.

_Spell accident causes explosion in Ottery St. Catchpole_

_Family of three dies in the catastrophe_

* * *

><p>The old man eyed the sleeping girl with something akin to regret. He really didn't like what he had to do, but he had come too far to back out. Before he began with the main task Abraxas began casting diagnostic spells. It wouldn't do to make a mistake at this point. While the lights of the spells danced around and through the small girl Abraxas began reminiscing. In the course of his long life he had amassed a wealth of knowledge that came in incredibly useful now. Part of his mind went over his life: Hogwarts years, the fight with his father, his stint with the obliviators to earn money, his travel to the Middle East followed by ten years of thievery, assassination and grave robbery, his return to England with his acquired riches, the reconciliation with his family, the death of his older brother, his career in politics and trade, marriage, the Grindelwald war, the birth of his son, Voldemort, and now this.<p>

He had accumulated a long list of crimes in his life, and now he was about to add personality destruction to the list. A glance to the side showed the ancestral Malfoy pensieve brimming with false memories, with eight smaller vials and one tiny one standing beside it. It had taken Abraxas two months to assemble a coherent whole after he had retrieved his pensieve from the location the vision had showed him. A chime signaled that his diagnostic spells were finished with their work.

Abraxas frowned when he interpreted the results. "Hmm, your bloodline is fey-touched. I wonder if it isn't more of a curse; their gifts never make the humans happy who receive them. No matter, the ritual will sever all previous bonds." He gently removed some errant hairs from the girl's face before he gripped his wand. "Goodbye, Luna Lovegood. Obliviate!"

* * *

><p>Three days later Abraxas took his fifth pepper-up potion. The work had been arduous, but by now nothing was left of the personality and memories of the girl before him. Only an empty shell remained, with her consciousness as clear as fresh spring water. Until the next stage of the plan, that was. It had been difficult, but all memories were now permanently erased. In contrast to the quick-and-dirty normal obliviation which simply locked specific memories away he had permanently erased everything. It took far longer and was more difficult to do without damaging the victim permanently, but his experience as an obliviator had provided him with the necessary techniques to pull it off.<p>

'_Time for the next step.'_

Abraxas took the tiny vial and unstopped it. With the tip of his want he touched the opening before he waved it around. A trail of silvery memories followed his wand around for a moment before settling into the head of the girl.

"Legilimens!" He carefully checked his work. Everything appeared to have settled in nicely. It was only temporary, but it would enable the girl to talk and recognize basic concepts. Abraxas cast a loneliness charm on her before he her woke up. A few moments after the drops of the counter-potion had hit the girls lips she opened her eyes. Silvery-grey eyes stared into nothingness.

"Do you understand me?"

"Yes."

Waving his wand around, he activated the ritual circle surrounding them.

"Do you revoke your old family by blood and name of your own free will?" Abraxas cast a mild fear and revulsion spell on the girl while asking that question.

The girl shivered. "Yes."

He conjured a picture of Narcissa before the girl's eyes. "Do you accept her as your mother of your own free will?"

"Mommy. Yes."

Abraxas made the image disappear and instead conjured the image of his son. "Do you accept him as your father of your own free will?"

"Daddy. Yes."

After the image of Lucius disappeared he carefully dribbled a few drops of Lucius' blood on the girl's right hand and some of Narcissa's on her left. The following incantation took almost a minute.

"As is my right as head of the house of Malfoy I hereby sever all previous bonds of allegiance and blood. Consent was asked and given. I name Narcissa of house Malfoy your mother. I name Lucius of house Malfoy your father. I name you Aquila of house Malfoy, and like an eagle you shall soar. By blood and name you shall be one of us forever. So mote it be!" he finished.

Suddenly the drops of blood seemed to come to life as they bubbled and formed worm-like shapes. The girl began to scream when they burrowed beneath her skin. It seemed like an eternity, but finally she stopped screaming and the ritual circle powered down. There had been quite a few changes to the girl's body, primarily to the facial structure. Abraxas doubted even her original parents would recognize her. Her hair was now the typical Malfoy platinum blond, but the most startling change had been the eyes. Before the ritual they had been a silvery grey. That had changed to the duller grey of the Malfoy's, but there were many spots of pure silver and Narcissa's aquamarine. It looked like someone had scattered slivers of gems across the girl's irises. He thought it quite fetching.

Abraxas caressed his new granddaughter's cheek before he gave her a new dose of the Draught of Living Death.

"Welcome to the family, Aquila Malfoy."

* * *

><p>Finishing with the clean-up, Abraxas let out a sigh of relief. Finally everything was finished. Over the course of one month he had carefully integrated the specifically created false memories into the girl's mind. He had done likewise for Lucius, Narcissa and Draco. He had even gone to the trouble of memory-charming the house elves. For all of them it would appear as if Aquila had always been a part of their life. Abraxas even had given himself these fake memories. Not that anyone would ever be able to recognize those as fake. It was truly a masterpiece of mind magic. Too bad that no one would ever know of it. Even Abraxas himself would soon forget that it had ever happened.<p>

He had been tempted to screw a bit with his son's memories, but in the end he had decided against it. The scale of change necessary to make him a worthy heir simply wouldn't work with an adult. The only thing he would achieve was giving St. Mungo's a new resident for the permanent spell damage ward.

Abraxas looked around with satisfaction. There was no trace of the ritual taking place left; the presence of his pensieve and his great-aunt's notebook as well as the potion he had made for himself had been explained in the memories he had crafted for himself. Sometime in the future he would have to show Draco this hidden underground hideout on the Malfoy lands. It contained his secret potion lab, an all-purpose ritual chamber and most importantly the heart stone of the Malfoy family. Only the most powerful of the Old Families possessed one of those, and it enabled quite a lot of family-based magic that was simply impossible without one. He would never trust Lucius with that knowledge.

Explaining the sudden appearance of Aquila to the outside world was easy. Many of the Old Families still followed the custom of only announcing the existence of their children to the world at large after they displayed their first case of accidental magic. It was much easier to quietly disappear them in case they were squibs if nobody knew about them in the first place. This was especially true of a younger daughter when an heir with proven magical ability already existed. Abraxas pitied poor Augusta, her son had been a good wizard, but it appeared her grandson hadn't inherited his abilities. Granted, there still was time, but it was rare for a magical child not to show some accidental magic by the time they were six.

A side-effect of the adoption ritual had been to magically lock Aquila's birthday to the day of adoption, meaning that she would celebrate her new birthday on April the 30th, two days earlier than Luna Lovegood's birthday. It was a lucky coincidence; any earlier date could have raised some questions how Narcissa could have become pregnant again so shortly after giving birth to Draco.

The old wizard surveyed everything for a last time and consulted the list he had made. Everything seemed to be in order. He had stored copies of all his new memories inside the pensieve and had isolated the memories he had to erase via occlumency, and was now ready for the last step. No one would ever know or be able to discern that until a short time ago Aquila Malfoy hadn't existed. He pointed his wand at his head.

"Obliviate!"

* * *

><p>Draco had hardly time to blink before he was tackled by a blond missile and landed on his bottom.<p>

"Happy birthday big brother!" the person responsible for his current state chirped.

"Aquila, that is not how a lady behaves." their mother admonished.

The girl rolled her eyes before responding. "Yes, mother."

Draco had to suppress a chuckle. At seven years of age his little sister could act like a perfect lady… if she wanted to. There was practically nothing that could get her to do something she didn't want, and her willpower was growing by the day. Most times she acted in the manner expected from her, but Draco knew that could change on a whim. She had a large independent streak, and it was further encouraged by their grand aunt Cassiopeia Black who had taken to visit them often after the announcement of Aquila's existence and who doted on the girl. Not that she was the only Black who had begun visiting regularly.

"Now, now, Narcissa; let the little lady have her fun. It's not every day that one's brother turns eight." Pollux Black said while Arcturus Black and Abraxas were chuckling in the background.

It had been around one and a half years since the visit by his older self, and many things had changed. His grandfather had taken over much of his education, leaving his father fuming but unable to do anything about it. Draco had learned much from him, and after learning the opening stages of occlumency even more from his newly acquired memories of the future. Aside from a lot of abstract knowledge he had only seen some concrete childhood memories from the other Draco until now, but his other childhood had been far unhappier. For one, he didn't have a sister. How that change had come to pass he hadn't the slightest idea, but he didn't know what his older self had planned to change in the first place. Or what unintended changes had happened, for that matter.

In the other timeline his grandfather had died over a year ago and he had practically no contact with the Blacks. It wasn't surprising considering that his father didn't get along well with the other people in the room. He had fancied himself already Lord Malfoy, but Abraxas' recovery had foiled his plans. It had only taken a single letter by his grandfather to get the Blacks to visit regularly, and Draco liked them all. Once upon a time the Blacks had been a very large family, but there weren't that many people with Black blood left who could continue the family.

Aside from the three old people in the room there were only uncle Sirius and aunt Bellatrix in Azkaban, and it was very unlikely that any of them would be able to have children if they ever got out. A prolonged exposure to dementors had that unfortunate side effect. His mother's sister Andromeda had been disinherited and thrown out of the Black family for marrying a muggleborn, thereby removing her and her daughter Nymphadora from the equation. That left only Harry Potter due to his grandmother being Dorea Potter nee Black, sister to Draco's own great-grandfather Pollux Black, but no one knew where the Boy-who-lived was. That meant it was Draco who was groomed for taking over the Black Lordship.

"Get up you two, it's time for presents!"

"Yay!"

Most of the presents were books much to Draco's delight. He knew it would be up to him to make a better future than his older counterpart had experienced. Knowledge was power, and he would need as much of both as he could get his hands on. Other than the books he received a broom from Pollux and his own winged pony from his grandfather. The Malfoys were breeding horses, both of the normal and the magical variety, and he wanted to have his own for years.

"Thank you."

Much later that evening, Draco and Aquila feigned sleep on the couch in the neighboring room to overhear the adults' conversation after Lucius and Narcissa had retired early.

"How goes your effort of getting Sirius out of prison?" Abraxas asked.

"Not good. All the documentation is being kept secret and inaccessible, even with enormous bribes. Crouch threw him into Azkaban with his special powers; there wasn't an actual trial. We are being blocked at every turn; it seems someone is trying his utmost to keep my grandson in Azkaban. We aren't even allowed to visit him." a very tired sounding Arcturus said.

"I still can't believe the boy secretly joined the Dark Lord, he had such an aversion against the Dark Arts." the sharp voice of Cassiopeia interjected.

Pollux responded to that. "By now I honestly think he didn't. You know how he was imprisoned for killing that Pettigrew boy and ratting out the Potters? There is simply no way he betrayed James Potter. The man was more a brother to him than Regulus ever was, and Charlus Potter was a better father than Orion. It didn't help that my daughter Walburga was half-mad. She has blasted dozens of members from the family tree as if she had the right to decide who is thrown out of the family and who isn't. That's solely Arcturus' right and duty. I recently visited Grimmauld Place; it has become a dump under the reign of that crazy house-elf of hers. Her insane portrait gives orders and the elf listens and does everything it says. The poor thing will have to be put down."

"I recently found out that Sirius was never even questioned or his wand checked. When they found him he was laughing madly and saying he killed them all over and over again." Arcturus continued his report.

Draco could hear Cassiopeia humming thoughtfully. "That does sound more like the aftereffect of prolonged Imperius-exposure. People have been known to go mad when they were forced to do things that went against their very nature."

After a short pause that was probably filled by nodding and a coughing fit Arcturus resumed his speech. "A few days ago I found another very interesting fact. Sirius named Harry Potter his godson and heir should he produce no children of his own. Even more interesting is the smear campaign the ministry is conducting. I don't know how one can get the idea that he was the Dark Lord's right hand and most dangerous follower from him blowing up a street and betraying the Potters. It seems someone is doing his utmost to keep him in prison and blacken his name even further." The old man chuckled lightly at the joke about his family name.

"Sirius is Harry's godfather? How very interesting. My investigation about his whereabouts has turned up nothing, but last month I found out that Alice Longbottom was named as his godmother. The goblins are unusually tight-lipped and the ministry likewise, but apparently the Potters' wills were sealed and never enacted. I know from me dealings with Charlus that there is an automatically set up standard will for every Lord of House Potter. Even if James never submitted one; the standard will has to be there." Abraxas said.

Once again Cassiopeia spoke up. "Now, that is something I call a lead. The attack on the Longbottoms never made any sense. Why should they have known anything about the Dark Lord's status? But as his godmother Alice would have had an undeniable right to know about his location and be responsible for his care. It may very well be that Bella and her merry group of maniacs were played."

"It seems more and more that Harry Potter is the linchpin of everything. Every person who had a legal right for his guardianship has been removed in one way or the other. Then there are all the tales and books about the Boy-who-lived that are popping up all over the place. It's very suspicious that they all describe his appearance in the same manner. As far as I have been able to find out the royalties flow through several layers until they end up in the pockets of one person, but I haven't been able to identify who it is. The entire story about the night when it happened makes little sense. Still, there is only one person who can exert such widespread influence and not get caught." Pollux added.

"Dumbledore." Cassiopeia spat out. Draco didn't know why, but his grand aunt hated the famous Leader of the Light with a passion.

A heavy sigh filled the room. "Then there is nothing we can do about it. House Black's power is waning, and money can only do so much with Minister Bagnold and a large part of the ministry either in Dumbledore's pocket or following him willingly. We will only be able to act when young Harry returns to our world, but I don't think I will see that day. Each morning it gets more difficult for me to get up. I don't think I have the three years left until Harry turns eleven." the incredibly tired voice of Arcturus said.

Pollux was the next to speak. "I fear it is the same for me. I already have to take a lot of potions for my body to keep working. If I'm lucky I will be around two more years, no more."

"My mind is prone to wander. I might live long enough, but I won't be capable of helping anyone. How about your son Lucius, Abraxas?" Cassiopeai asked with obvious distate.

Abraxas' voice was pained. "My son is a death eater and an idiot. We can never trust him with anything sensitive. Given the chance he will bring ruin to House Malfoy. If I could I would disinherit or remove him completely, but that would cause too many additional problems. The love potion wasn't one of my brighter ideas; it makes Narcissa completely ineffectual at curbing my son's idiotic tendencies. No, my hopes solely rest on Draco and Aquila. Soon there will be no one else left. I might be able to give them some guidance in their early Hogwarts years, but no longer."

Cassiopeia's voice was softer this time. "They are both so young."

"They are, but who else is there? We can't trust Andromeda, Narcissa or Lucius, and even if it wasn't a family matter more and more of my old friends and acquaintances are succeeded by their children. Too many of them followed the Dark Lord fanatically and will follow him again should he rise anew or another comes along. We should never have supported that maniac." Abraxas said.

Arcturus harrumphed. "This is hindsight. At the time he seemed a reasonable option to support, and that erroneous decision has cost us all dearly. Dumbledore was and is destroying our world, and we had to at least try and stop him."

"If only Grindelwald had succeeded…" Cassiopeia said wistfully.

"But he hasn't, and his fall gave further rise to Dumbledore. We've had this discussion often enough, Cassy. Another matter, I noticed you take Draco and Aquila to the muggle world on occasion. Why is that?" Pollux asked.

Draco could imagine his grandfather's shrug. "I have my reasons. Our house makes a surprisingly large amount of money by dealing with muggles, and Lucius is completely incapable of managing that. It will still be some time until our coffers have recovered from the Voldemort war, but we are getting there. I'm trying to teach Draco all he needs to know for taking over. It's only a part of my attempts at taking precautionary measures in the case I meet a premature end."

"And they have horse races in the muggle world." Cassiopeia added.

Abraxas laughed. "You know me too well. If you don't like Quidditch there's no real other sport left in the Wizarding World. Draco has taken a liking to football as has Aquila, and as long as they remember they are superior to the muggles I see no problem with it. Ignorance can be far more dangerous. They will have to deal with an ever increasing number of muggleborns. There are too few of us left to remain solely in our society. Another matter, how do you plan to resolve the question of the Black Lordship?"

Arcturus coughed a while before answering. "It seems Sirius has taken the matter out of our hands. I don't think he was aware of what he was doing, but the specific way he used to accept Harry as his godson made him the recognized heir after Sirius. Without disinheriting Harry I can't override that decision, and I don't want to do that. I named Draco secondary heir and regent should he acquire his lordship beforehand, but that is all I can do. What about the Potter fortune?"

"I recently bribed the right goblin to gain access to the records. The manor was destroyed as well as most businesses they held an interest in. I think James spent too much in the fight against Voldemort, it's a pity Charlus didn't live long enough to teach him everything he needed to know. The boy bought completely into Dumbledore's propaganda. It seems his wife Lily kept him from spending everything. In my estimate they are still moderately wealthy, but nothing more. Currently only the trust vault should be accessible until Harry takes up the Lordship." Pollux explained.

"I still think the girl had the brains in the relationship. James did well in marrying her despite her being a muggleborn. By all reports Lily was exceptionally powerful and a true charms and runes mistress. She probably set up something that took out the Dark Lord. There is no blood, only power." Cassiopeia interjected.

All the males chuckled. "We all know you think the Dark Lord Cesare was right and should have won, but he was decisively defeated by the coalition of the Old Families. How often do you want to bring that up, oh sister of mine?" Pollux asked.

After that the discussion veered into rather uninteresting territory. Draco still feigned sleep but was thinking hard. That was a lot of responsibility that would land on his shoulders. He would have to try harder to get more knowledge. Only then Draco noticed that Aquila had fallen asleep in his arms. She looked awfully cute. It was really great to have a little sister, even if she could be very annoying.

* * *

><p>'<em>Today is the day. Finally.'<em>

In the past few years Draco had deciphered more and more of the memories his future self had sent him, and by now he had a pretty good idea how the alternate timeline had turned out in the next twenty years or so and vaguer notions of what happened after that. It had been disgusting to watch what a pathetic little shit he had become without his grandfather's guidance. The self-critical commentary his old version had inserted had been funny, though. His occlumency wasn't especially strong, but he had concentrated more on deception instead of blocking. He probably would never be able to block either Dumbledore or Voldemort if one of them decided to use a brute force approach, but he could make it look like as if there wasn't anything incriminating to find.

Soon everything would rest on his shoulders alone. His great-grandfather Pollux had passed away last year and Arcturus earlier this year. Cassiopeia was still alive but not doing well. Abraxas had told him about the special potion he had used to extend his life two weeks ago, and that he would only be around for another two years. All of them had used every last minute they could spare to teach him and Aquila as much as they could. Not spells, no, their magic hadn't grown enough for that, but everything they needed to know in their role as scions of one of the Old Families. Abraxas had taken them into the Muggle World regularly and by now they could fit in without problems if they had to, much to the displeasure of his father. Not that anything the idiot said was important. Draco fervently hoped that if he ever said something like 'when my father hears of this…' somebody would shoot him.

Come to think of it, Aquila would probably do it. The girl loved finding the rarest of creatures… and hunting them down. By now his sister had an impressive collection of trophies in the room set aside for that. Aunt Cassie had been delighted, even if Aquila showed no interest in muggle hunting. ("There are too many of them and they don't make for very impressive trophies, auntie.")

Today was the day Harry Potter would arrive in Diagon Alley. At least, he hoped it would be the same day. The evidence available to him pointed towards the existence of a butterfly effect, but hopefully the main events would be unaffected. Currently Draco was standing in Madame Malkin's being fitted for a robe, which was a very boring endeavor.

Draco had thought long and hard how he should best approach Potter and he had come to the conclusion that he needed to go for carefully disguised manipulation. His future self had been quite clear that they needed a stable, independent Harry Potter who could think for himself and was comfortable with his power, but if he wasn't careful it could easily lead to a Dark Lord Potter. Which would be almost as bad as the crippled wizard Dumbledore's plans had produced. He couldn't become too close a friend to Potter because it would cause Dumbledore to take a special interest in him, and that was a thing to be avoided at all costs.

Dumbledore was perhaps the most dangerous man Draco could encounter at this time. Not because of his personal magical power and knowledge (which was enormous), his political influence (which was even greater) or his ability to manipulate events to his favor (which was nearly unparalleled). No, the most dangerous thing about Dumbledore was his unshakable, honest conviction that he was doing the right thing. He wasn't creating his schemes for personal gain. _For the greater good_ had been Grindelwald's motto, but it was Dumbledore who followed it to the extreme. Who else would knowingly leave a small child at an abusive home and carefully manipulate his entire upbringing to create a martyr who would willingly sacrifice himself _for the greater good_ of the Wizarding World? That Harry got to walk away after his death had been more a case of lucky coincidence and absolute idiocy on Voldemort's part.

Draco was sure Dumbledore felt honest remorse about what he was doing, but it wouldn't cause him to deviate from his path in the slightest. The entire plan was completely idiotic in the first place. It had been conceived after the ministry and Dumbledore were losing the war against Voldemort despite the man being an incompetent at strategy. Dumbledore clung to one rather absurd interpretation of the words of a vague prophecy like there existed nothing else. Heck, there wasn't even any indication that it referred to Voldemort. At this very moment there existed probably around a dozen Dark Lords or so trying to take over one country or another, and Voldemort was a rather small fish in comparison to some of them. Draco knew from his memories that nobody ever really tried to defeat Voldemort. Instead they all hoped somebody would come and take care of the problem for them. It was disgusting. Unfortunately, there were hints in the memories that there was far worse to come in the future, and he would need a Harry Potter in prime condition to have any hope of surviving.

The chime of the shop's door caused him to look up. There he was, a smallish boy with spectacles and messy black hair who was looking around curiously. It didn't take long for Madam Malkin to place him on the pedestal besides him to fit him for his robes.

'_God, he's wearing things that would fit a beached whale. Probably to hide how painfully thin he is. Aquila would kill me if I don't do something about that.'_

His little sister had developed an interest in Harry Potter, but as far as he could tell she didn't harbor any fantasies about marrying him. It was more a type of scientific curiosity of who was the real boy behind the myth. Probably even some amount of care about his well-being. He was a cousin and future lord of House Potter and House Black, after all. Things would be easier if Hagrid wasn't here. Well, no sense in complaining. Time to take the first step.

"Hullo, my name is Draco Malfoy. Are you going to Hogwarts too?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong> The idea for this story has been in my head for quite some time, and after encountering slight writer's block in regards for my Naruto fic I decided to write it down and upload it here. It is more of an experiment and updates will probably be few and far between.

Please review and tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I make absolutely no money from this

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 2**

"Hullo, my name is Draco Malfoy. Are you going to Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes, I'm Harry." the bespectacled boy answered.

Before they could exchange any more words Hagrid butted in. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." After a nod from Harry the half-giant left the shop.

'_Huh, already a change from my other life. I don't think Hagrid entered with Harry the first time. No matter, that might give me a bit more time. It's such a pain I can hardly reveal anything to Harry, Dumbledore is sure to read his mind when he arrives at Hogwarts.'_

"Wasn't that the Hogwarts gamekeeper?" Draco asked innocently to get the conversation going again.

"Yes, his name is Hagrid."

"I heard of him, very good with animals but has a bit of problem with recognizing what is dangerous to normal people. Guess it's because he's so big and strong, there isn't much that can harm him." That should go over better than what the other Draco had said. "Is he the only one with you?"

"Yes."

'_God, this is like pulling teeth.'_

"That's strange; normally one of the teachers does the introduction for people not used to the magical world. Well, I suppose he qualifies because he works at Hogwarts. Did he give you the standard muggleborn introduction package, explain about the Hogwarts houses or tell you about how to get to the Hogwarts express?" Draco asked.

Now Harry seemed to become curious. "No, he didn't."

"Well, it's his first time introducing a new student, so I guess it's inevitable that he makes some mistakes. You can pick up the information package when you get your books later; it explains some basics about our world and the laws and stuff. You have to specifically ask one of the clerks, though. The Hogwarts express is the train that takes us to the school in Scotland all the way from King's cross in London. The platform number is nine and three-quarters and it's magically hidden between nine and ten. You just have to walk straight through the barrier. I think it is explained in the information package, but I hear many people have trouble with it." he explained patiently.

That earned him a smile from Harry. "Thanks. What about the houses?"

"The students at Hogwarts are sorted into four houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin." Draco grimaced. "Please don't tell anyone I said this, but I think most Slytherins and Gryffindors are bullies of one sort or another. The two houses have some sort of feud going, and you will get bullied by the other side. Almost my whole family was in Slytherin, but personally I'm hoping for Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, even if my father won't like it. The adults won't say how one is sorted into the houses, but apparently you can influence it to a degree. Some people say that one house is better than the other, but they all are equal. It really depends what you want." Draco gestured towards himself. "As you can probably guess I like to learn and explain things. What is the most important thing for you?"

Harry hesitated a moment before he spoke a single word. "Friends."

"Then I guess Hufflepuff would be the right house for you; they are really big on friendship and such. My cousin just graduated, and she was a Hufflepuff and is now working to become an auror, that's a magical policeman. Oh, and don't just join a house because a relative or famous person was there. You are not them."

Draco had never met Nymphadora, but by listening to the adults he kept up with the news. During their talk Madam Malkin had finished with Harry, and time was growing short. Draco himself would need to be fitted for a few more robes.

"Hey, do you like football?" Draco asked.

Harry seemed a bit confused by the question. "It's okay. Why?"

"Well, they only play Quidditch at school, that's the main sport of the magical world. It's played on flying brooms in the air. I like flying, but I don't like the game. If I find enough people we could start a football club."

At that Harry smiled. "I'll think about it, but thanks for the offer."

Noticing Hagrid on the other side of the front window grinning wildly and holding two large ice creams he knew the conversation was over. "Well, it seems your escort is back. Unfortunately I have to stay here until my father comes back. I'll see you on the express or at Hogwarts, I suppose."

Draco watched Harry leave the shop with a last wave to him. Internally he was quite relieved, the meeting had gone as good as he could have reasonably expected. Hopefully it would prevent Harry from remaining completely ignorant about their world. If he was lucky it might even cause him to be sorted differently. McGonagall never truly stood up for her house in general and Harry in particular, her duties as deputy headmistress and close association with Dumbledore got in the way of that. In Slytherin he would have to deal with Snape hating him, and the danger of him becoming a Dark Lord would be much greater. The other two houses were really the best bet, although Draco didn't believe that Harry had the academic drive at this point to be sorted into Ravenclaw.

At the same time Draco had prevented the set-up meeting with the Weasley family from taking place, making a friendship with Ron more unlikely. Harry would be much better off without the lazy boy dragging his performance down, and the Weasleys were Dumbledore loyalists in any case. The other Harry's Quidditch career had led to an enormous number of potentially lethal injuries, occupied too much of his time and provided an additional avenue of manipulation. Better to keep him from the game completely. Besides, Draco really didn't like Quidditch, and a football game now and then would be fun.

Not that any of that would seriously hamper Dumbledore's plans. Draco was sure that the esteemed Leader of the Light would have no problems in manipulating Harry; after all he didn't need to control his day-to-day life. The headmaster kept his plans fluid, but it would be a tiny bit more difficult for him to implement them now. From what the older Draco had pieced together Dumbledore would be largely content in letting Harry do his own thing while he monitored his behavior via occasional legilimency or other means and used subtle compulsion charms to steer him into a specific direction when it became necessary. Most of the blatant manipulation and conditioning had already happened at the Dursleys or would only happen a few years in the future, but now wasn't the time to do something about it. Harry would need uninterrupted and unsupervised time to learn occlumency before Draco could go about repairing the damage done to him.

'_Oops, I didn't do anything about his clothing or malnourishment. Better to keep the meeting from Aquila, then. She doesn't know about the plan and would never forgive me that I didn't introduce myself as his cousin.'_

"Draco, are you finished?"

The voice of his father interrupted his thoughts. It had been impossible to exclude him today; after all getting his wand was a very important event. Lucius was an idiot, but that idiot would have authority over Draco for quite a few years. Especially considering that his grandfather hadn't long to live and emancipation would be impossible at first. Meaning Draco showed the man the proper respect and mostly kept his head down.

"Yes father."

"Then come along, we don't have time to dawdle." After a nod to Madame Malkin Lucius turned around and stepped onto the street with Draco following behind him.

The next few moments consisted of a blur of activity, but Draco would remember the opening stages quite clearly. When his father took the next step from the door heedless of where he was going Arthur Weasley ran straight into him, not having time to stop or space to sidestep the unexpected obstacle even if he had been paying attention to where he was going. Both men went down while Lucius walking stick went flying, hitting a wizard who was currently levitating a stack of boxes filled with overripe fruit. The surprise of the hit caused the man to yank his wand up, sending the boxes and fruits flying. The fruity missiles came down all over the alley, initiating chain reactions of their own. An especially overripe pumpkin landed directly on his father's head before shattering. Draco hadn't believed such things possible outside of muggle comedy movies and could only stare openmouthed as the disaster zone spread.

Naturally, instead of staying calm his father began arguing with Arthur Weasly, and soon the other wizards and witches started arguments of their own. Draco carefully edged away from them in search of a quiet corner to wait things out.

* * *

><p>Ginny was mortified. Her entire family was making a spectacle where the whole alley could see it, and her mother's voice was already winding up to make sure everyone in a large radius would be able to hear it, too. She was the only Weasley who wasn't swept away in the heat of the argument and kept out of the growing disturbance. Her father was arguing with Mr. Malfoy (who had still pumpkin juice dripping from his face and clothes), her mother was having a screaming contest with Mrs. Flint, Percy and the eldest Flint boy looked like they would be coming to blows in a few moments, the twins had their own private argument with a girl who looked liked she was also a Flint and a boy who was apparently her boyfriend and Ron was engulfed somewhere in the chaos she couldn't see. All in all there were probably thirty adults and forty-five kids involved, but her family was at the center of it. Oh, how she wished that the ground would open and simply swallow her up.<p>

Then she noticed a blond boy who was obviously the son of Mr. Malfoy who was likewise standing to the side, holding his head in his hands and muttering "This isn't happening; this can't be happening." After saying these words a few more times he breathed deeply and composed himself before looking around. When his eyes found her he cocked his head thoughtfully for a moment before approaching her.

She feared she would be drawn into the argument but apparently the boy had different ideas. "Hi, I'm Draco Malfoy. You're a Weasley, aren't you?" he asked in a calm voice.

"Yes, I'm Ginny Weasley." she answered.

He pointed back over his shoulder at the confrontation. "You don't seem to want to partake in the fun. How about we sit down at Fortescue's until things calm down? I pay."

Ginny knew her family wouldn't like her consorting with a Malfoy, but the boy seemed nice and a bit more distance to the disturbance would be appreciated. Besides, she wasn't one to spurn free ice cream. She shrugged. "Sure."

Not even a minute later they were sitting at a table with a prime view of the events in the street and talking amiably while eating a delicious frozen treat. From the looks of it they weren't the only people who were watching the still spreading disturbance with fascination.

"You know, the entire scene would be funny if it wasn't my father there making an embarrassment of himself." Draco remarked after awhile.

Ginny sighed. "I know what you mean. None of them ever backs down, do they?"

"No, it doesn't seem that way. I wonder if they need to call the aurors or if things will calm down on their own. It will surely be talked about for quite a while. I don't even want to imagine what the other children at Hogwarts will say." he answered.

"I wish I could go to Hogwarts, too." she sighed.

Draco laughed. "My little sister is the same. Don't worry; one year isn't much time at all."

"That's only because you aren't stuck at home alone with nothing much to do, oh brother of mine." a female voice sounded from behind.

Turning her head around, Ginny saw a girl her own age standing a meter behind them with folded arms. Even if she hadn't called Draco her brother it would have been clear from the family resemblance that she was his sister.

"Hello Aquila. Allow me to introduce Ginny Weasley. Ginny, this is my sister Aquila."

After exchanging greetings Aquila sat down at their table.

"What did our father do now, and how did it escalate to that?" Aquila asked while gesturing at the still arguing people.

Draco sighed. "He didn't look where he was going and collided with Ginny's father. The rest grandfather will have to show you in our pensieve; you wouldn't believe me if I told you. Where are grandfather and mother?"

"They will be here shortly; I think they just wanted to pick out a trunk. I decided to go ahead on my own." She sent another look at the now slowly calming crowd. "But I certainly didn't expect to find that. Or you talking with a member of the Weasley family; you know how father goes on about them. No offense, Ginny."

Ginny shrugged. "None taken. If you hear my family you would think you Malfoys are all followers of You-know-who and eat muggle babies for breakfast each day."

"Of course we don't; have you any idea what that would do to our blood pressure? No, it's for supper that we eat the babies." Draco joked and they all laughed.

Aquila surveyed the thinning crowd. "Much as I would like to continue this conversation with intelligent people I fear we have to go our separate ways. Our father wouldn't react well to see us talking in a friendly manner, and I guess the same is true for your family."

Nodding, Ginny replied "You're right about that. Well, thanks for the ice cream and company, Draco."

Draco waved her thanks away. "It was no trouble at all. Goodbye, Ginny."

The blond girl eyed her with a thoughtful expression before speaking. "Would it be acceptable to you if we became pen pals? I meet so few people who are interesting to talk to. I can send one of our house elves to deliver my letters and collect yours. None of the adults would ever know."

Ginny smiled after a moment of consideration. "Sure, I would like that. Bye!"

Making herself as inconspicuous as possible, she left the tables, made a little detour and approached her mother from a completely different direction. The two young Malfoys had been nice to talk to; she didn't get that many opportunities to interact with other people her age. She had originally harbored the hope of seeing Harry Potter today, but what were the chances that he would be here at the same day as them? Gaining a pen pal was a very good second in her opinion.

In that moment her mother spied her. "Ah, there you are, Ginny. I've wondered where you had gotten to."

"I tried to stay out of the way of thing on the side of the road, mum." She showed her mother the cauldron filled with some of their purchases she had volunteered for carrying because it made her feel like she was going to Hogwarts. "I didn't want to accidentally get knocked over and spill our things on the ground."

That earned her a pat on the head from her mother. "Very sensible, Ginny. Honestly, the nerve of some people. These horrible Flints…"

Ginny tuned her mother's ranting out when she trudged along to collect their remaining family members. It was typical for her to talk at length about other people's faults while being oblivious to her own. The visit to Diagon Alley had certainly been far more exciting than expected.

* * *

><p>Abraxas Malfoy let out a sigh after Draco left his study. His grandson's meeting with Harry Potter had been unexpected, but he couldn't fault Draco for not making a move. He was there alone and it was very likely that Dumbledore had posted a watcher besides the bumbling half-giant. Hagrid was completely loyal to the man and the ideal patsy if you needed a friendly face, but he wasn't the most attentive guardian possible.<p>

The problem was that even if they could talk with Harry none of them had a legal right to his guardianship. Pollux or Arcturus might have been able to swing something with young Harry's consent, but with them dead there was no way he or Cassiopeia could go against Dumbledore with the whole political power his positions gave him. At least he had been able to ascertain where Harry Potter had spent the last ten years of his life now that he had received his wand and was on record with the ministry, even if it had cost him a pretty penny.

To think that Dumbledore had left the boy with muggles of all people. Muggles! Sure, the woman was his aunt by blood, but it was no fitting way to bring up the heir of one of the Old Families. There was no telling what the boy knew, didn't know or had falsely been taught. According to Draco he was obviously not used to the magical world, but their conversation had been too limited to ascertain anything else. Presenting himself as helpful and possible future friend was really the best thing Draco could have done. Abraxas was proud of both his grandchildren. Draco in particular showed a maturity far beyond his years.

'_He will need it. I have only about two years left. Hopefully Lucius won't ruin the family.'_

It was really a shame he couldn't simply pass over Lucius, but Draco was too young. There were ways to an early emancipation, but none he could use with Narcissa and Lucius alive. If he had already been an adult he could have named him the direct heir, but the way things were he had to limit himself to other measures. A smile lit his face when the old man thought of all the assets he had squirreled safely away. What assets Lucius didn't know about he wouldn't be able spend, after all. The scene on Diagon Alley had once again shown why Lucius couldn't be trusted. His son was simply way too arrogant for his own good. Abraxas knew he himself had the same weakness, but he kept it firmly under control.

Well, there was no sense in fretting about it further. With Draco at Hogwarts he would concentrate on Aquila. There was so much to teach and so little time.

* * *

><p>Draco exchanged greetings with people he knew while he made his way onboard the Hogwarts express. He wasn't especially close with any of them, but they were the children he had been allowed regular contact with. Unfortunately, they seemed to have turned out mostly like the other Draco had experienced. Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were prime examples of the problems with the application of the pureblood ideology to a very limited population. The elder Draco had invested a lot of effort in his later life, but he finally had been able to conclusively prove that marrying only other magicals indeed increased the magical strength of a bloodline over time and on average. Unfortunately the same couldn't be said for general intelligence and a lot of other rather important traits.<p>

Crabbe's death in the other future was typical for the type of wizard that ideology produced: Powerful enough to call forth full-blown fiendfyre, but too stupid to recognize that a cluttered room with a lot of flammable material was one of the worst possible places you could use that spell, especially if you were inside that same room. Not that he had possessed enough willpower and ability to concentrate to keep it under control under battle conditions. No, Draco had decided to follow the philosophy of Aunt Cassie: There was only power. If a person had enough power and more importantly enough intelligence to wield it effectively it didn't matter much who this person's parents were. It wasn't what his grandfather considered ideal, but it was an acceptable philosophy to him.

This time around the two boys seemed to have taken to following Nott around. In Draco's opinion he was welcome to them. Sure, there was a place for muscle in every lord's employ, but if that muscle was literally too stupid to live it constituted more a liability than an asset. The rest of the entourage of his other self wasn't much better. Theo Nott was a less whiny and more dangerous version of his alternate self, Pansy Parkinson was a simpering fool, Millicent Bulstrode had not only a troll's looks but its intelligence and so on. The only two people out of the potential Slytherin crowd who were worth anything while being salvageable were Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass, and that was mostly because their families had remained neutral in the entire Voldemort mess and had therefore not indoctrinated them to a hopeless degree.

Nodding his head here and there, Draco searched for a free compartment with a good look of the train platform. He was very early, but it was a necessity if he wanted to find a good compartment. Finally finding one to his liking, he stored his trunk and sat down.

The encounter with the Weasley family in Diagon Alley a month ago had been a surprise; it certainly didn't happen in the other timeline. He wasn't entirely sure why he had approached Ginny. Well, the prime reason was that she hadn't behaved like an idiot and it was much more fun to watch the disturbance with someone who had the same problem as him, namely idiot family members. But there was another reason. Draco had gained the vague feeling that Ginny was somehow important for some of the future happenings at Hogwarts, but he wasn't sure.

That thought caused him to frown. He hadn't noticed at first, but the memories he had received were either incomplete or something had gotten scrambled somewhere in the process. The events of Hogwarts years one, four, five, six and seven were more or less clear, but surprisingly little seemed to happen in year three. Well, aside from the dementors and the rather feeble attempts of his counterpart to get Hagrid fired and a hippogriff killed.

He hadn't received complete memories; in fact most of the lessons and other random stuff weren't included in the first place. Draco thought that a very wise measure. If it were otherwise he would have been bored to tears during his entire school career, and the amount of memories his older self had been able to send had obviously been limited. He really didn't need to know what he had eaten each day. Most of what he had deciphered either was helpful abstract knowledge, things he had no way of finding out normally, very advanced stuff that would come in useful later and most importantly the high points of the following years with enough actual memories to provide the necessary context and all sorts of plans and suggestions how he could go about to change things. Some of them he considered insane, but all in all he knew what the following years would bring.

That brought him to the problem he had discovered. Either literally nothing of importance happened in second year, or the memories relating to it had somehow been lost. Draco's money was on the second option. Oh, he had found bits and pieces of different events, but he had not been able to assemble a coherent whole. Somehow Ginny had played an important role and Harry had rescued her from some unspecified threat, but that was all he had been able to ascertain. Well, you couldn't expect that a series of mainly untested spells regarding to time travel worked absolutely correctly the first time you tried it, and unfortunately there wouldn't be any second chances.

Suddenly he spied a familiar face he definitely hadn't expected to meet here outside of his compartment.

"Justin, is that you?" he asked in surprise.

The boy stopped walking and turned around to face the compartment. "Draco, old chap? You're a wizard?"

A grin spread slowly over Draco's face while he stood and shook the boy's hand. "You can say that. In fact, my whole family has been magical for generations."

Justin laughed. "That certainly explains some of the peculiar things about you. My parents thought you and your grandfather were merely eccentric. With you here the entire thing will go over much better with my parents. Especially my mother wanted me to go to Eton."

Draco shrugged. "What can I say? We certainly have enough money that nobody dares to call us crazy, and I think I did quite admirably considering that I first visited the Muggle World when I was seven. You should see what some of the other wizards get up to."

Draco had met Justin Finch-Fletchley and his family while attending a horse race with his grandfather. They had somehow hit it off well just after a few minutes of talking. Justin's family was upper class and deeply involved in banking and similar things. His grandfather had promptly used the opportunity to establish a new business contact outside of the channels wizards normally used and they had kept in contact over the years. Now that he knew what to look for he found a few tangential mentions of Justin in the older Draco's memories, but he had never paid the boy much attention. Well, another difference for the already very long list.

They continued talking amiably until Draco saw the person he had been waiting for entering the train platform. Hurriedly he opened the window and shouted a greeting. "Hey Harry. Over here!"

The bespectacled boy looked around searchingly for a moment before spotting him. He gave a wave of acknowledgement and turned to enter the train at the nearest entrance. Draco met him at the entrance to help him with his trunk. A minute later they sat together and continued to chat.

"That's a beautiful owl." Draco remarked.

Harry smiled. "Thanks, her name is Hedwig. Hagrid got her for me as a birthday present."

A short time later two girls joined them in the apartment. Draco recognized them as Hannah Abbot and Susa Bones. Interestingly, Harry gave only his first name. Unfortunately for him his hair shifted a bit and gave a prime view of his scar. The girls' eyes went wide.

"A-Are you Harry Potter?" Susan asked.

"Yes, I am." Harry began to turn red under the stares of the girls. Time for Draco to intervene.

"You know, it isn't very polite to gawk at him, and I sincerely hope nobody wants to take a closer look at his scar. I certainly wouldn't want to be constantly reminded of something I have no memory of along with my parents' deaths." he said.

Now it was Susan's and Hannah's turn to turn red, but that didn't prevent three of the occupants of the compartment to turn their stares towards him while Justin had obviously no idea what was going on.

"You knew who I am?" Harry finally asked.

Draco shrugged. "I recognized you pretty much immediately; your description is all over the wizarding world, after all. When you gave only your first name during our meeting at Madame Malkin's I assumed you didn't want to be recognized and I played along. You really don't like your fame, do you?"

Harry lowered his head. "No, I don't. I didn't even know about it and magic until Hagrid brought me my letter on my birthday."

Hannah and Susan were back to staring openmouthed at him.

"Could somebody please explain to me what is going on?" a clearly frustrated Justin asked.

"Well, you see, there was this very bad wizard who killed a lot of people only a few years ago. Not like a serial murderer, but more like the enemy leader in a civil war with his side acting like terrorists. Like the IRA, but worse. Everyone now calls him only You-know-who, but the name he used himself was Voldemort." Susan and Hannah shivered. Draco gestured towards them. "As you can see his name commands even terror among those who haven't any conscious memories of the time. I don't know if that is his real name in the first place, but people don't like it if you speak it. So even if you find it silly please be considerate of other people's feelings and use the hyphenated moniker. Anyway, as I was saying he killed a lot of wizards and muggles, but I believe the muggle part was mostly kept under wraps."

Suddenly Susan spoke up. "He and his followers killed my whole family. My parents, grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunts were all murdered. Now only my aunt and I are left." She shivered again when she fell silent. Hannah enveloped her into a hug and sent Draco a look saying he should get on and over with his tale.

"Well, things were really bad until something unexpected happened. For whatever reason You-know-who decided to go after Harry's parents personally. His father was an auror, that's a magical policeman, and he had fought against him several times together with his wife and lived to tell the tale. That caused You-know-who to mark them for death. The Potters had gone into hiding, but somehow he found them. No one knows what really happened that night. The only survivor was Harry here, but considering that he was a bit more than a year old at the time he obviously couldn't tell anyone what happened. The next morning the Dark Lord was gone, his spells fading and organization unraveling, but Harry's parents were dead as well. He obviously survived, but I have no idea how accurate the official version of events is. It seems to be universal knowledge that he survived the killing curse although it left that famous scar. The strange thing is how people know about that in the first place, as far as I know the killing curse leaves no physical traces and Harry disappeared from the wizarding world in that night. You-know-who's wand was never recovered, so how do people know which spells were cast? Anyway, in the following years a lot of tales and whole books about the Boy-who-lived appeared, making him famous and recognizable on sight by every wizard and witch." Draco concluded his explanation.

"To summarize things, Harry here is a celebrity for something he doesn't remember and didn't even know about until recently?" Justin asked.

Harry nodded. "Yes, I lived with my muggle aunt and uncle, and they didn't tell me anything. They don't like magic or me. I always thought my parents had died in a car accident. Draco's tale was the most detailed account anybody has given me. Well, Hagrid told me a bit, but not that much. When I first entered the Leaky Cauldron I was almost mobbed by well-wishers."

"Oh, poor Harry." Hannah and Susan cried simultaneously, jumped up from their seats and enfolded him in a double hug. Draco noticed how Harry stiffened at first but relaxed slowly the longer the hug lasted. He hadn't planned for this development, but it was better than almost anything he could have hoped for. Time to use the opportunity to make a few more inroads.

"Harry, there will be many who will only see you as the Boy-who-lived or want a piece of your fame or the money your parents probably left you. The Potters were always a wealthy family, after all. You can't escape your fame." Draco shared a look with all other occupants of the compartment. "If you want to we can be your friends, and to us you will always be just Harry. Right?"

Susan nodded and finally let go of Harry. "Spoken like a true Hufflepuff. I agree." Hannah and Justin gave similar statements.

Harry smiled. "Thanks, I would like that."

In that moment the train began its journey, and they all took their seats. It didn't take long for a red-headed boy to turn up. "Everywhere else is full. Can I sit here?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. "Sorry, but as you can see our compartment is already full." That was even true. With five of them the compartment's capacity was reached. What was more interesting was that there were always more places than students; the train had always the size to accommodate all students comfortably. He knew that the boy was Ron Weasley, and from how he glanced at Harry it was clear that he had specifically sought him out.

The other Draco's memories of Ron Weasley had been extensive, and none of them were good. Aside from their personal feud to complement the informal family feud the Weasel had been one of the other Harry's two best friends. He was one of the main reasons why Harry hadn't made more friends earlier in his time at Hogwarts. Ron was a glutton, lazy, jelaous and stupid, and his behavior appeared to be contagious. Additionally he tried to monopolize Harry's time. Draco really wondered why the other Harry hadn't ditched him in fourth year at the latest; his behavior over the entire stupid Triwizard Tournament had been completely inexcusable. But no, as soon as he came crawling back after the first task all was forgotten.

It had been one of the older Draco's fondest memories when Ron's entire life came crashing down nineteen years after Voldemort's final defeat. The idiot had used a Confundus-charm on the examiner during a driving test because he was too lazy to accept the verdict and go to the effort of repeating the test. That little Confundus had spiraled completely out of control into a massive breach of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, and the following investigation had uncovered several additional instances of abuse of authority. Most of them were fairly minor, but taken together Ron had a massive problem. He had lost literally everything: the respect of his friends and family, his marriage and his job. In fact, he barely escaped prison and drank himself to death within the year. Harry had been blameless but had been forced to resign from his post as Head Auror. One and a half years later he had been stabbed to death in a brawl between several drunks.

The memories of that time were still vague, but the elder Draco hadn't been able to rejoice for long. With the Statute of Secrecy irrevocably broken international relations had destabilized, leading to several prospective Dark Lords trying to take over the Muggle Word. Not long after that the Third World War had started. Well, this time around Draco would make sure to keep Ron as far away from Harry as he could manage.

'_Please say or do something stupid. Please say or do something stupid.'_

Ron didn't disappoint. Pointing towards him, the red-headed boy began to speak. "You can always turn him out. I've heard of his family. They were one of the first to come back to our side after You-know-who disappeared. His father said he had been bewitched, but my dad doesn't believe it. He says the Malfoys didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark side. You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much nicer than others. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there. My name is Ron Weasley." After that declaration he tried to push his way further into the compartment, but was blocked by Harry and Justin.

"Thank you, I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself." Harry answered coolly.

"I would suggest you find a compartment of your own." a stone faced Justin added.

The two girls nodded in confirmation, and confronted with a united front the Weasel faltered. His face growing red, he turned around and left the compartment while muttering "Mental, the lot of them."

Justin let out a sigh when he sat back down. "I have to say that was an unpleasant chap. What was he talking about, Draco?"

This was a difficult question. How he answered would shape their relationships for the years to come. Hesitantly he began speaking. "It's complicated. My father was among the followers of You-know-who, but in his trial he successfully pleaded that he had been under a curse that took his free will away. There were certainly a lot of such cases; in fact the fading of the control spells was the first sign that You-know-who was gone. The problem is that there is no way to check if that is true in the individual cases. Now, I'm not very close to him and he doesn't talk about it, but there are rumors he was a willing follower in truth. They are spread mainly by my family's political opponents, but that gets even more complicated. Needless to say the Weasleys as a family belong to a different political faction and our animosity goes back generations. I can honestly say that neither I nor my grandfather would ever willingly swear allegiance to You-know-who. Unfortunately I can't speak for my father or some other people related to my family. I can only say that I'm not my father and I don't share his beliefs. Besides, if I were a blood-purist like You-know-who I wouldn't have been on friendly terms with Justin and his family for years. It's my hope we can become friends regardless of that. No one can pick his relations, after all."

Draco saw Harry's flinch with satisfaction. That comment had hit the mark. He knew that his aunt and uncle were pretty much the muggle version of Death Eaters who lacked only the support of an organization of like-minded people to become violent.

Harry held out his hand. "I don't hold you responsible for the actions of other people or what your father might have done. No one should be held to that standard."

Smiling, Draco shook the offered hand. The other occupants of the compartment expressed similar sentiments. It hadn't been in his plans to get that close to Harry that quickly but it wasn't like he could control every little action in the world. If they were sorted into the same house things would get problematic concerning possible scrutiny from Dumbledore.

They continued talking about this and that but didn't touch any really serious topics. There was a knock on the door of their compartment and a round-faced boy came in.

"Sorry." he said. "Have you seen a toad?" When they shook their heads, he wailed "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me."

"Have you asked a prefect or one of the older students for help?" Draco asked. "There are spells for finding and summoning things, so they should be able to help you."

The boy nodded before leaving the compartment again. "Thanks, I didn't think of that."

When the lady selling snacks arrived they pooled their money to buy a bit of everything. Draco got lucky with his share of the Every Flavour Beans, but Justin, Harry and Hannah weren't so fortunate. Susan had wisely refrained from eating any of them. Then the conversation veered to the Hogwarts Houses.

"Susan and I are hoping for Hufflepuff. We've been friends for like forever, and don't shy away from hard work." Hannah said.

Susan nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, my aunt was in Hufflepuff and she still keeps in contact with her school friends. If its friendship and loyalty you want Hufflepuff is the place for you."

Justin and Harry didn't have any preference, but Draco advocated Ravenclaw.

"Why do you want to be there, old chap?" Justin asked curiously.

His answer earned a round of laughter. "Simple, they have a private library in their tower." After the laughter subsided he continued speaking. "It's just that I like to learn and study, and I fear my father's reaction if I end up in Gryffindor or Hufflepuff. He has some silly prejudice against these houses. Slytherin is what is really expected from me, but I might be able to sell Ravenclaw with the right sort of arguments. We can stay in contact even if we're sorted into different houses, but it won't be as easy."

Soon enough they arrived at Hogsmeade station. Draco wondered how many children lived normally here and had to be brought to London only to take the train back to their home. When they were led to the boats the first years were required to use Draco was separated from them somehow and ended up sharing a boat with Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger of all people. It was then that he noticed another change.

This Hermione seemed different from the insufferable know-it-all she had been in the other timeline. She kept relatively quiet most of the time, but in her eyes was a look of calculation that was decidedly out of place for an average eleven year-old.

'_I wonder what brought that change on. The other Hermione was extraordinarily intelligent in some ways and extremely stupid in others.'_

In the other future she had become known as the witch responsible for the House Elf genocide. It was perhaps the only eradication of a sentient species in history that had been done with the intention of helping said species. When everything in Magical Britain came crashing down some time after her husband's Confundus-stunt and Harry's death she had seen all her work for the freedom of house elves becoming undone and resorted to desperate measures. No one ever figured out what exactly she had done before she went into hiding, but somehow all magical bonds between house elves and their families were forcefully severed and new ones became impossible to form worldwide. Aside from the fact that most house elves didn't actually want to be free the other Hermione had overlooked a little known but vital fact: house elves needed a bond with a magical family to survive long-term and procreate. Places of great magical power such as Hogwarts could substitute for that under certain circumstances, but the other Hermione's actions had made that impossible. Two years after that the last house elf died. They had been a small population centered around Britain and some other European countries in the first place; other places had their own forms of magical household servants.

Draco made some small talk with them, and at least Neville was his expected timid self. The boat ride was otherwise pleasant and Hogwarts a truly impressive sight to behold. During their wait in the antechamber the Weasel made some inane comments about wrestling a troll and some ghosts passed through. Absentmindedly Draco noticed how Hermione was calming a nervous Neville down, but most of his attention was focused on his occlumency. He had no idea if he would be able to deceive the Sorting Hat, but he would try his best. After all, you couldn't see were the thing kept its brain.

Finally they were told to form a line and led into the great hall by McGonagall. Like the sight of the castle it was truly impressive. The enchanted ceiling was a truly masterful piece of magic. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." she said. "Abbott, Hannah!" The pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. After a moment the hat shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!".

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Draco saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!" "RAVENCLAW!" The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

" Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Draco could see the Weasley twins catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" "HUFFLEPUFF!"

It seemed all of his new friends so far had ended up in Hufflepuff. No surprises until now.

That changed when Hermione Granger was placed under the hat. It took several minutes and it seemed the girl was arguing with the hat, but finally it shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"

Neville didn't take as long as in the other timeline before he was sorted into Gryffindor, too.

Finally it was Draco's turn. He walked forward in a manner that he hoped looked normal and carefully placed the hat on his head while concentrating on his deceptive occlumency.

"Hmm." a small voice said in his ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of cunning, I see. Not a lack of courage or loyalty to friends and family either. There's talent - my goodness, I haven't seen such a thirst for knowledge in generations, now that's interesting..."

Draco could actually feel the hat poking around in his mind, but until now it hadn't found the occluded part of his thoughts and memories. _'I would prefer Ravenclaw if you don't mind.'_

"Not Slytherin like most of your family, eh?" the small voice said. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that - no. Well, if you're sure - better be RAVENCLAW!"

After the hat shouted the name of his new house Draco calmly took off the hat and walked to the Ravenclaw table. He got some amount of applause, but not as much as other people. With a nod to his new housemates he sat down, watching the Sorting with interest while observing the High Table out of the corner of his eye.

'_Severus looks surprised; I bet he thought I would end up in Slytherin. The others didn't react in any way.'_

Draco wasn't close to his godfather. His grandfather disliked the man and kept their contact to the minimum that could be barely considered polite. Secretly Draco agreed. Severus Snape wasn't a good man, and Draco was pretty sure if he hadn't been caught between Dumbledore and Voldemort he would have tried to set himself up as a minor Dark Lord in some small, out-of-the-way country. Certainly no sane person would let him anywhere near impressionable children, and letting him actually trying to teach was pure madness. Oh sure, he was a very capable potions master and exceptional wizard in general, but he was a sadist and completely unsuited for teaching. Self-study was the only way to learn something; the potions classes were only good to get some practical experience. The number of students taking potions past OWL-level had dropped sharply ever after he took over the teaching position, thereby depriving the country of many future healers and other important professions which required a NEWT in potions. Most non-Slytherins had to resort to private tutoring after school if they wanted to work in those jobs. Slytherin house had pretty much degenerated into a training pit for future Death Eaters and blood purists under his reign, and the antagonism with the Gryffindors was increasing. The old head of house Slughorn had his faults, but he had never permitted the degree of open abuse Snape did.

That wasn't even touching the man's other problems. He had happily killed and raped while he was a Death Eater only to get cold feet when his love/obsession Lily Potter became a target. If he had been a better man Draco might have felt compassion for his being stuck between two masters, but Snape had chosen his own path. The only reason he was still here and not in a cell in Azkaban was that Dumbledore didn't want to lose his pet Death Eater and shielded him from the consequences of his actions. It was quite disconcerting to see how several problems at Hogwarts and the Wizarding World in general were never addressed simply because Dumbledore said all was well and his political allies kept everything under wraps and out of the spotlight.

The other young Draco had been very close to Snape and delighted in his torment of Harry, but from the distance of more than a hundred years it had seemed idiotic and childish, an opinion which the real Draco shared. He had better things to do than acting like an incompetent schoolyard bully.

It seemed far longer than it was in reality, but finally it was Harry's turn to be sorted. As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say." "The Harry Potter." "The Boy-who-lived."

'_You'd think Harry was an exotic animal when you see all the people craning their necks to get a look at an eleven year-old.'_ Draco thought.

The sorting of Harry was by far the longest of all the new first years, and Draco crossed his fingers that his manipulations had been successful. Suddenly the hat shouted "HUFFLEPUFF!" and the corresponding table erupted into loud cheers. Draco noticed the looks of surprise on many faces, but at least Dumbledore never lost control of his poker face. When Harry arrived at the table of his new house Justin immediately pulled him on the free seat between him and Hannah.

'_YES! Operation: Keep Harry Out Of Gryffindor was a full success.'_

The few remaining children were sorted, Dumbledore made his inane announcements, the third corridor was mentioned and the feast began. Draco made a bit of conversation with his new housemates. Terry Boot, Stephen Cornfoot, Michael Corner were fellow purebloods, Anthony Goldstein was a half-blood and Kevin Entwhistle was a muggleborn, not that such things mattered much to Draco. On the girls' side Padma Patil and Morag MacDougal were purebloods; Sue Li, Mandy Brocklehurst and Lisa Turpin half-bloods. The old Draco had never paid that much attention to the Ravenclaws, meaning he didn't have any preconceived notions about any of them. At least Stephen and Morag he knew in passing, his grandfather was friends with Morag's grand-uncle and did business with Stephen's father.

After the feast they were led to Ravenclaw tower and the riddle-locked door was explained. Draco considered that setup stupid, after all anyone with a bit of thinking ability would be able to get into their common room. Professor Flitwick made some introductorily speech and the prefects introduced themselves. A short time later Draco was lying in his new bed in the Ravenclaw boys' dormitory, thinking about the day.

All in all it had gone much better than he had hoped for. First thing tomorrow morning he would have to compose a letter to his family. He hoped his being in Ravenclaw would go over well. Not that there was anything anybody could do about that now. Draco briefly considered the insanity of letting a millennium-old artifact with indecipherable enchantments decide about such a large chunk of the life of young children. Had he been in charge he would have simply divided the new students at random or done without the houses in the first place. He was still contemplating the matter when sleep overwhelmed him.

* * *

><p>Abraxas carefully removed the letter from the owl obviously belonging to Hogwarts. It had interrupted their dinner, but the timing matched with a sending time of early morning in Scotland. The letter had been expected, and he wondered which house his grandson had ended up in. Unfolding the letter, he began to read.<p>

"Well, what does it say?" Narcissa asked.

The old man chuckled before passing the letter along without reading more than the first paragraph. "It seems Draco's studious nature was stronger than the family tradition. We can count a new Ravenclaw among us. The last one was my great-aunt Priscilla. He writes it took a while to decide between Slytherin and Ravenclaw, but in the end his love of books and knowledge won out."

Lucius seemed to grumble a bit, but in the end it mattered little to Abraxas which house Draco was in. True, traditionally the Malfoys were Slytherins, but Ravenclaw was completely acceptable. It seemed his friend Alan MacDougal's grand-niece had wound up there, too. Abraxas had considered setting up a betrothal contract with her among others for Draco and had actually spoken with the boy about it, but after hearing Draco's arguments he had abandoned that line of thought. It was likely the political situation would shift greatly in the next years, and it wouldn't do to hitch their cart to the wrong horse. Alan had understood, but Lord Parkinson had made no secret of his disappointment. He was sure Lucius would have gone for that agreement, but Abraxas didn't think it was a good idea to consort with another family that had fanatically supported Voldemort. Abraxas tried his utmost to move them towards a more neutral position and that would have been a set-back to that endeavor.

Narcissa's pealing laughter interrupted his thoughts. "Oh my, Harry Potter was sorted into Hufflepuff."

Abraxas cocked a bushy eyebrow. "Really? I would have expected Gryffindor. It seems your son isn't the only one who breaks with tradition."

"He writes he actually shared a compartment with Harry, the Bones girl and some other people. They went all into Hufflepuff. He thinks Harry wanted to follow the majority of his new friends." Narcissa continued reading. "If possible he will try to keep the contact with Harry, but with them being in different houses it will not be as easy." Suddenly she laughed out loud.

"What do you find so funny, dear?" Lucius asked.

Narcissa took some time to calm down and wipe some tears away. "It seems Arthur Weasley's youngest son entered their compartment during the train ride to ingratiate himself with Harry. Draco calls him 'the Weasel' in his letter, and his attempt backfired spectacularly. Somehow he managed not only to alienate Harry but Susan Bones and their friends, too. He made some comments about our family being dark in his small-minded Weasley manner and suggested they throw our son out of the compartment to make room for him. Needless to say, Draco turned the argument around and convinced all the others of his viewpoint."

Lucius smirked at this as if it was his success. "I suppose he has still a lot of Slytherin in him."

After she finished reading the letter a frown creased Narcissa's face. "Draco writes that Dumbledore told everyone that the third corridor is off-limits and a painful death awaits any student who goes there."

"What is that old fool playing at now?" Lucius ground out.

There were many things Abraxas and his son didn't agree on, but their dislike of Dumbledore was not among them.

"Draco didn't know, but he will try to find out more in an inconspicuous manner if the opportunity presents itself." Narcissa said.

"It's good to be careful. Dumbledore might be crazy, but he is still a very dangerous man. I doubt we can do anything even if he keeps an acromantula or something like that in the castle. Still, I will bring it up in the next meeting of the school board of governors. The Longbottom heir now visits Hogwarts, and old Augusta is very protective of him." Abraxas said thoughtfully. He looked at Narcissa. "Are you finished with the letter? I want to show it to Aquila before I send it on to Cassiopeia."

His daughter-in-law handed the letter back. "She's still sleeping. I think she stayed awake the entire night in case Draco sent a letter that evening. She already misses her big brother."

Abraxas laughed. "Ah, to be young again. It will seem no time at all until she leaves for Hogwarts, too. Now, if you will excuse me."

Leaving his finished dinner behind, Abraxas made his way to his study. Once there he duplicated the letter with a spell onto an identical looking piece of parchment, lit a candle and waved the original carefully above the flame. After a few moments formerly invisible writing appeared on the backside of the letter. He and Draco were pretty sure that the mail was somehow monitored, and there were things no one besides Abraxas could be allowed to learn. Almost all magically invisible writing could be detected, but the same wasn't true for the simple muggle methods of making invisible writing. Lemon juice was easy to come by, and after the application of a bit of heat it became visible. Naturally, it was additionally coded with a cipher only he and Draco knew.

Abraxas frowned when he read the sentences. Draco wasn't sure, but he suspected Harry was being mistreated by the muggles. His clothing had once again been ill-fitting and he seemed malnourished. Unfortunately there was nothing they could do about it directly. Abraxas had begun to carefully probe into the neighborhood where Harry's family lived. The first thing he had discovered was an extensive network of wards. There were a whole lot more magical detection wards in the area than normal, and it had caused him to abort his investigation. If he tried anything further with the ministry of magic Dumbledore would surely hear about it.

The other bit of news was more lighthearted. Abraxas chuckled lightly when he read that Justin Finch-Fletchley was magical. That certainly explained the strange behavior of the family in the last few months. Suddenly Abraxas got an idea. If he couldn't find out more things about Harry's relatives the magical way he would have to go to the muggles. Some of his acquaintances certainly had the right connections to make a discreet inquiry.

He nodded to himself. Yes, that would be a good way to further unravel the secret of Dumbledore's strange actions regarding the last Potter.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong> Thanks for the reviews, folks.

This chapter was very quick to write. The next one will probably take longer.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 3**

History of Magic taught by Professor Binns was an abomination. How anyone could turn that wonderful and interesting subject into a sleep-inducing monotone nightmare and still call himself teacher Draco didn't know. Using Bathilda Bagshot's 'A History of Magic' as required reading material for the first years was just adding insult to the injury. That book mixed true facts, myths and outright lies into one messy jumble. At least now he knew why the older Draco had included hardly any memories of that subject. He had simply acquired notes from some older students.

'_That means at some point in time someone must have stayed awake through his entire lessons to write these notes. I wonder who it was.'_

When he looked around Draco saw that their ghostly professor had already managed to put most of the class to sleep. The few students who hadn't succumbed to the soporific powers of Binns' monotone voice were staring into space with glassy eyes.

The only exceptions seemed to be him and Morag MacDougle to his left side, and the girl with the coppery curls was intently reading a book and didn't pay any attention to their teacher in the first place. If Draco hadn't known it was impossible he would have said that she was born with a book in her hands. Draco himself liked books, but Morag took it to an entirely different level. She was seemingly reading non-stop; the only occasions when she didn't read were during classes and when she slept and Draco wasn't sure about that last fact. In fact, Morag seemed to regard the professors as annoyances who stopped her from pursuing truly important things like improving her literary knowledge. She had taken to hanging out with Draco and partnering with him in classes on their second day. According to her the other four first-year girls were much too chatty for her likes and she was the odd one out anyway. She seldom spoke unless asked, but when she said something it was always worth listening.

Draco was on amiable terms with all his housemates, but they were all so _childish_. Terry Boot, Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein seemed to be forming a friendship like they had in the other timeline while Stephen Cornfoot was doing the same with Draco. Kevin Entwhistle was more of a loner and tagged along either with Draco's group or the other boys while the four girls stuck together. It wasn't anything exclusive or final, but for an observant person it was clearly visible were the groups would develop.

The lecture was becoming steadily more boring. In an effort of distracting himself he gave up on taking notes and leaned over to Morag. "How do you manage to stay awake enough to read? Wouldn't it be better to take notes?"

Morag looked up and pointed to her book. "Binns is quoting the commented version of True Historic Facts of the Magical World verbatim. Until now he didn't change a single word, and frankly reading his speech is far more interesting than listening to him."

"Oh, that's a good find. I already checked the normal book on the list but there were some differences. Thanks."

"No problem. The library here has several dozen copies of the book stashed away in some storeroom; I guess they changed the book list so that people would actually try to pay attention to Binns. I asked Madam Pince because I recognized a passage last week and didn't see it anywhere." Morag whispered and returned to reading.

Well, that changed things. He wouldn't have to pay attention to Binns in an effort to acquire notes. Perhaps he could use the time to work on his occlumency and order his memories; he would have to bring another book to the next class.

The first week had gone pretty much as expected. Herbology, Charms, Transfiguration and Astronomy were interesting, which unfortunately couldn't be said for History of Magic, Defense against the Dark Arts and Potions. Quirrel taught something, yes, but with his fake stutter and intentionally reduced competence it wasn't an enjoyable experience. At least it signified that Tom had taken possession of him as expected. Snape was completely incompetent as a teacher, he simply wrote the directions on the blackboard and spent the rest of the time stalking around and unnerving them without offering help or advice.

His shameful display of trying to humiliate Harry in their first class had shown that he was either unwilling or unable to act professionally and let a juvenile grudge affect his judgment. Harry had actually gotten two of the three questions right, but that still didn't earn him any points from Snape. At least nobody laughed at him. Potions was the only class the Ravenclaws shared with the Hufflepuffs, and none of them liked the man. The older Ravens respected Snape for his personal skill, but that was more than offset by his ineptitude as a teacher. He was universally hated by Hufflepuff House.

'_On the other hand, perhaps Snape is acting on orders from Dumbledore. It's possible he's tasked with keeping some amount of pressure on Harry and don't let him become too comfortable.'_

It was unfortunate that Draco didn't know everything what Dumbledore truly thought or planned. The older Draco had collected all the information he could, but there were many assumptions and guesswork involved. While the older Draco had been able to see any point of the past that didn't mean he knew everything. If you could see everything it was very hard to find something specific, especially if you didn't know what exactly you were looking for. Time was limited, and while he had caught some very revealing conversations he couldn't read minds.

That meant the younger Draco had to be very careful not to be seen as suspicious or disrupt Dumbledore's plans too blatantly. Offing the headmaster would have been the best solution, but that was almost impossible. Hopefully Voldemort's ring horcrux would do the trick again if no other opportunity presented itself. In that vein it was perhaps fortunate the he only shared one class with Harry, and one that didn't lend itself well to chatting. Sure, they talked occasionally during the meals or during their off-time, but they would not develop an extremely close friendship like what they could have developed had they been in the same house. At least not at first, it was always possible some time later. Draco didn't fancy getting obliviated or being subjected to compulsion charms, which surely would have happened had he stayed close to Harry.

Instead Harry seemed to developing a friendship with Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot and Susan Bones. Her aunt would be a very useful connection. Amelia Bones had become Head of the Department of Magical Law enforcement last year when Minister Bagnold retired and Cornelius Fudge became Minister for Magic. There had been a lot of shuffling of positions involved in the change of administration.

On another note Hermione Granger's behavior continued to puzzle him. She stuck close to Neville the entire time and didn't display compulsive teacher's pet behavior. Sure, she was still one of the best students and somewhat of a know-it-all, but it didn't involve trying to answer every question and almost jumping from her chair every time someone couldn't answer a question. All in all she was much more tolerable than his older counterpart's memories had led him to believe.

The Weasel continued to stare at him hatefully, but a Malfoy that wasn't in Slytherin seemed to have overloaded the walnut he used for a brain. Draco couldn't care less what the boy thought about him as long as he kept his distance. He wondered idly what had brought that extreme behavior about. His father and Mister Weasley outright hated each other, but it was much more blatant than the other time around. Well, with his grandfather still alive Lucius had more free time and less social standing of his own, and he had clashed with Arthur Weasley several times already.

Lastly, he had found out why he had received less applause than the other first years at the sorting. As it turned out the sixth-year Ravenclaw seeker had been involved in the disturbance his father and Mister Weasley had started. Even worse, the boy had just bought a new broom. A broom that had been destroyed in the commotion. By the time they arrived at Hogwarts the story had spread through Ravenclaw house, and he was being blamed by extension. Luckily that was nothing an apology to the boy, a letter to his grandfather and a new broom couldn't solve. Almost two weeks into the school year Draco was a well-respected and generally well-liked first year member of Ravenclaw house. Whoever said money couldn't buy respect never tried it.

* * *

><p>"Everyone stand by a broomstick. Stick out your right hand over your broom and say 'up'." Madame Hooch commanded.<p>

Draco's broom jumped into his hand at once as did Harry's, but most of the class had more difficulties. "You have to be confident in your abilities. If you doubt yourself it doesn't really work." Draco said to Kevin. The muggleborn boy's broom had simply rolled over on the ground.

Kevin looked at Draco with a questioning glance. "Really? How do you figure?"

"My grandfather explained it to me. Your magic interacts with the enchantments of the broom. A big part of all magic is intent and your own belief that what you are doing is possible." he answered.

With a thankful nod Kevin turned back to his own broom. "UP!" he said in a commanding voice. This time the broom reacted accordingly and slowly floated up into Kevin's outstretched hand. "Thanks, Draco."

Madame Hooch made her rounds, showing them how to properly mount their brooms and correcting grips. Then she proceeded to explain the next step, but not before adding a safety advice. "If you should lose control simply maintain your grip on the broomstick and shout for help. I will use a spell to keep you safe. Most importantly, don't panic."

Draco nodded together with the others. They all had heard of Neville Longbottom's accident yesterday. Still, he had been lucky. A broken wrist was easily healed, a broken neck less so. After all the students had mastered taking off, hovering above the ground and landing safely Madame Hooch made them slowly flying circles with increasing height. For the next step she mounted a broom herself and led them on a tour around the castle. Harry was unquestionably the best natural flyer of all of them, but Draco wasn't that far behind. He might not have Harry's natural talent, but he had been practicing flying on brooms and winged creatures for years. After watching them thoroughly for an hour Madame Hooch gave them both permission to leave her supervision and fly freely on the school grounds while she kept watch over their less skilled classmates.

"Want to take a detour over the lake? It still belongs to the grounds and isn't forbidden like the forest. We can even race a bit." Draco asked Harry when they were finally out of sight.

Harry nodded. "Sure."

The school brooms were old and not in a good shape, but that hardly mattered. They were flying cork screws around each other and took dives until they almost hit the surface of the lake. The giant squid seemed to take an interest in their antics when he surfaced and waved at them. Draco was about to address Harry when he stopped. The look on Harry's face was pure bliss. It just didn't seem right to disturb him in that moment. They continued simply flying for a while until the time for them to return to the castle approached.

"Harry. HARRY!" Draco shouted.

That seemed to finally snap Harry out of his trance. "Sorry, you were saying?"

Draco sighed. "I've been trying to get your attention for almost a minute. We have to return to the castle. You seemed far away."

Harry's expression grew wistful. "It's just… I've never felt so free before in my life. I wish I could continue flying forever."

"I know what you mean. All your worries are simply left on the ground, aren't they?" Draco asked while nodding sagely.

"I'm glad you understand. We haven't really had the opportunity to talk to each other since the sorting."

Draco shrugged. "That's the house system for you. It will probably get better next year. Hopefully we will have more classes together. Additionally we will be able to form and join the different clubs. I'm settling in nicely in Ravenclaw. How are you faring?"

A very large smile lit Harry's features. "It's great. I'm mostly hanging out with Justin, Susan and Hannah, but most of the others are friendly. Well, Zacharias Smith is rather unpleasant and Ernie Macmillan is a bit pompous." His expression changed to a frown. "Ron Weasley is getting on my nerves. He tried several times to partner up with me in class and butter me up while dismissing my friends rather rudely. Hannah thinks it is because he wants to leech off my fame or something. I hope he gets the message that I'm not interested."

"Well, the Weasley family is rather poor and large. I think there are about five older siblings and one younger sister, and Ron probably wants to step out of their shadow by any means possible. Befriending the Boy-who-lived would get him some influence among our peers. It wouldn't surprise me if others will try the same. Remember, you are a celebrity. You will have to deal with the typical problems that brings if you want to or not." he explained.

Harry grimaced. "I wish they would simply leave me in peace. It seems Theo Nott is trying to antagonize me."

"That isn't surprising. You are seen as a political figure belonging to Dumbledore's sphere of influence, and Nott's father is one of his main political opponents. Theo is probably trying to establish himself as leader in Slytherin house. Most of the parents of the kids there have at least sympathies to You-know-who's agenda and have taught their kids these values. If they can embarrass you it would improve their standing. Just keep your cool and don't let them goad you into stupid mistakes."

"Do you mean all Slytherins are like that? And what is that about social standing? We are just children." Harry asked aghast.

Draco shook his head. "No, it's just more pronounced and almost official in Slytherin. Ambition is supposed to be their defining trait, after all. He had followers from all the houses, but I guess most people in the other houses prefer to keep their convictions more hidden. As to your other question, Hogwarts is pretty much an elite school. The education is just one factor. Most of the children here are either very talented or their parents are rich or politically important. The connections you make in your time here have a huge influence on your later life. Just ask Susan or Hannah, they should know. Justin should be familiar with the equivalent in the muggle world; his family is from the right circles."

Harry seemed very thoughtful during their flight back to the castle. Draco hoped he hadn't said too much. He had to make Harry aware of what was going on; the sooner he came to accept his place in their society the better. There was so much he wanted to tell his cousin, but he didn't dare to do something overtly suspicious. Dumbledore had invaded Draco's mind two times already and there was no telling how often he searched Harry's thoughts. Sure, without making it blatantly obvious he could only read their surface thoughts, but that was dangerous enough. Luckily his occlumency had held and the esteemed headmaster should have gotten the impression that he just wanted to be helpful, with some believable interest to get close to the Boy-who-lived thrown in.

When Draco saw that they were almost back to the castle he spoke up. "The flying classes won't stop for several weeks. How about we repeat our little journey next week? It's a shame we are only allowed to bring our own brooms after the second year."

"Sure, I'd like that." a smiling Harry said.

* * *

><p>Aquila was bored. Without Draco to keep her company the house seemed so empty. Most of her time was spent with either her grandfather or her mother. It seemed her grandfather was in an awful hurry to stuff all sorts of knowledge into her head. From time to time she accompanied her parents to social occasions, but these were the only times she met children her age.<p>

Not even visiting her trophy room could lighten her mood. Aunt Cassie had taken her hunting since she was eight, and she simply loved it. Absentmindedly her fingers brushed over the showpiece of her collection, the stuffed form of a crumple-horned snorkack. If the animal had been alive or its corpse untreated it would have meant her death. Despite their cute and cuddly appearance they were very dangerous. Aquila thought they were some distant relation to nundus. They constantly emitted poisonous vapors, and actually touching the untreated fur was deadly. Even inhaling the diluted vapors caused debilitating delusions. It was how they got food. Snorkacks were carrion feeders that simply walked through an area and ate all the animals that weren't quick enough to escape. Additionally they possessed something like a natural notice-me-not charm. It had been pure luck that this specimen had walked directly into the sights of her crossbow when she and Aunt Cassie had been visiting some distant relatives of the Black family in the Russian north. Generally snorkacks were believed to be a myth, but that was mostly due to their rarity and deathliness. If you were close enough to see through their natural magic you were close enough to inhale their poison. Luckily it had been a windy and cold day and Aunt Cassie had conjured a magical protection against the weather. It had proven very effective against the snorkack's sole weapon.

With a barely audible pop Dobby appeared. "Mistress is requesting young mistress' presence for afternoon music lessons."

Aquila sighed. "Thank you, Dobby. I will be there presently."

Dobby disappeared with another pop. Even the normally hyperactive house elf seemed to miss Draco and wasn't his usual self. Aquila sighed again when she made her way out of the trophy room. Perhaps she would write another letter to Ginny later. The girl had proven to be an interesting pen pal. Their upbringing and perspectives were very different, but that was what made it fascinating.

* * *

><p>Abraxas cursed under his breath. Getting information about young Potter the muggle way had proven effective, but he didn't like what he had learned. Oh, on the surface everything seemed to be alright, but if you knew what to look for the traces of obliviations and some other charms were unmistakable. There were small inconsistencies with the documentation. Just what would happen if somebody did extensive memory work but wasn't completely familiar with all the intricacies of the muggle world. Child services, police, teachers; they all seemed to be affected. Abraxas didn't dare to come close to the detection wards at the Dursleys himself, but he had been able to track down people like Harry's first school teacher who had left Little Whinging. Several liberal applications of legilimency later and he had assembled a coherent picture.<p>

Harry seemed to have been terrorized by his cousin during their entire time at school and nobody had done anything about it. The Dursleys were a bunch of magic-hating muggles who weren't fit to bring up any children, but the father seemed to be well connected. The teachers had given his fat son inflated grades for fear of being fired. After the first time Harry had been careful to score lower than what his muggle cousin could expect. Furthermore, the Dursleys seemed to have spread tales about Harry and his parents that made him an outcast in the neighborhood. Harry's clothing always seemed to be shabby and ill-fitting.

As far as Abraxas knew that should have led to an investigation, but nothing seemed to have happened. Or rather something had happened and somebody had removed the memories and prevented the muggles to take notice again. Several times.

'_Probably Dumbledore's work. It's easy to mentally influence muggles, just one more ward in the area. He has access to obliviators and can remove all traces of their work afterwards in the ministry.'_

When he cross-referenced the names of the neighbors with his secret list of known Dumbledore supporters he made another discovery. Arabella Figg, squib and known breeder of cross-bred kneazles had taken residence in Little Whinging shortly after Voldemort's defeat. She had been observed having contact with Dumbledore during the sixties and seventies by several of his informants, thereby making it on his lists.

Together with Draco's reports he came to a devastating conclusion. Albus Dumbledore, the man who had created the tale of the Boy-who-lived in the first place, ensured with everything in his power that Harry Potter stayed in an abusive muggle household for some reason Abraxas couldn't fathom. Even worse, there was nothing he could do about it at the present time. He had nothing permissible in court and no legal claim to Harry's guardianship. What evidence there was could be easily suppressed. The new Minister for magic Cornelius Fudge was still completely in Dumbledore's pocket. Abraxas had delegated Lucius to influence Fudge, but it would be at least a year and a lot of money until he had enough clout to suggest any specific actions. At least it seemed possible to make progress with him. Bagnold had been an almost fanatical Dumbledore supporter.

'_I'm cutting it close. It's virtually certain I won't make it through Draco's third Hogwarts year; that's probably not enough time. I will have to collect all the available evidence and hope for an opportunity.'_

It wasn't a happy thought, but in all likelihood he would have to leave it to Draco. Abraxas didn't like how many burdens he had to lay on his grandson's young shoulders, but time was working against him. Still, he would like to talk with young Harry at least once. Charlus Potter hadn't exactly been a close friend and they had often taken opposing stances on political issues, but they had gotten along passably well on a personal level. Additionally, Cassiopeia wanted to meet the only grandchild of her sister before her death. That narrowed it down to either the coming summer or the one after next.

'_Better make it the coming summer, Cassie won't last much longer. Dumbledore has certainly placed tracking charms on the boy and will watch him like a hawk until he is with his relatives. I will have to research ways to get around that at least temporarily.'_

* * *

><p>Draco frowned when he heard the Weasel's loud voice after the end of Charms class. "It's no wonder no one can stand her, she's a nightmare, honestly. Always showing other people up and knowing everything better."<p>

It seemed Granger's performance with the levitation charm and even more her attempt to help the redhead had stoked the Weasel's anger and envy. A loud sob later a distraught Hermione Granger were taking off at high speed.

"I think she heard you." Dean Seamus said.

"So? She must've noticed she's got no friends." the Weasel replied.

When the mass of students dispersed Draco noticed Neville standing there, his expression wavering between anger and shame. Obviously he didn't agree with the Weasel's words, but was now ashamed of himself that he didn't do anything.

'_This is an unexpected opportunity. Today the troll will appear if Tom keeps his plans constant. Even if he doesn't let it into the school I can make some connections to Neville and Hermione.'_

"Where do you think Hermione ran to?" he asked Neville.

The chubby boy was startled. "Why do you want to know?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "To help her, of course. I don't want to let a walnut-brain like the Weasel, err, I mean Weasley get away with insulting his superiors in intelligence. Aren't you supposed to be her friend? You two are always together."

Neville seemed to deflate. "I guess I was, but how can I pretend to be her friend after I failed to say anything just now?"

Grabbing Neville by the shoulder, Draco stared directly into his eyes. "You're right; you should have stood up for her. Still, you can fix it. You will have to apologize and grovel a bit, but after that she will forgive you. Probably. I have a younger sister and one thing I have learned is that women are fickle." He turned to the waiting Stephen. "Neville and I are going to track Hermione down and make sure she is alright; we won't make it to the next class. Can you please tell McGonagall about it?"

After Stephen gave his assent Draco and Neville made to follow Hermione. A bit of searching later they found her in the girls' bathroom.

"Hermione, are you there?" Neville asked tentatively.

"Go away!"

"I-I'm sorry about earlier; I should have said something. Please come out." he tried again. When nothing happened besides further sobbing he sent a helpless look at Draco.

'_Why me?'_ Draco asked himself silently. He breathed deeply before speaking. "Hiding won't help, you know. Why did you let what the git said get to you? Granted, Longbottom made a mistake, but he is trying to make up for it. You are a big girl, deal with it."

The sobbing stopped for a moment. "Who is there?"

"I'm hurt, Granger. We have been in classes together for two months and you still don't recognize my voice." Draco drawled.

"D-Draco? Why are you here?" Hermione asked.

"To help you and Longbottom, of course. Can't let Weasley get away with insulting his betters. You have at least one friend who is worried about you."

"B-but what R-Ron said…"

Draco sighed. "Granger, you should simply ignore anything the Weasel spouts. He is a jealous little git who envies other people's wealth and skill but is too lazy to work hard to improve himself. I know you are smart; you should have figured that out by now. At least among us Ravenclaws you are respected and generally well-liked. Can you please come out now?"

Hermione was silent for almost a minute and Draco began to fear that his approach had been wrong when the door suddenly opened. Her eyes were puffy and the tear streaks still visible, but at least she had stopped crying. Neville shuffled on his feet until Draco hit him with his elbow to urge him forward.

"Hermione, I'm deeply sorry for not defending you. I promise that will never happen again. Can you please forgive me?" Neville pleaded.

The bushy-haired girl seemed to consider for a moment before a small smile lit her face. "Okay." The following hug seemed to be almost bone-crushing judging from the expression on Neville's face.

"Good, now that this is cleared up can we leave? I don't want to be found in a girls' bathroom." Draco said.

Neville blushed and Hermione giggled. "I still can't go out there; I look a mess." the girl said after a look into the mirror.

Draco shook his head. "Here, let me help." A few spells later Hermione looked again perfectly fine.

"Thank you, but how do you know these spells?" Hermione asked.

"I have to regularly accompany my parents to social occasions. Children are expected to present an impeccable image. My mother used these spells often enough on me and as soon as I got my wand I learned them myself. The girls in your dormitory should know them, too." he explained. After Hermione nodded he continued. "There's no sense in going to class anymore; better to go back to the common rooms and rest for the feast later."

When they arrived at the door to the Gryffindor room Neville stayed behind for a moment.

"I wanted to thank you, Draco. From what I heard I wouldn't have expected that from you." He offered his hand. Draco didn't hesitate and shook it.

"It was no trouble, Neville. See you at the feast later."

Neville gave a last wave and disappeared through the portrait hole. After it had closed Draco turned around and made his way to Ravenclaw Tower to relax a bit before he had to get ready for the Halloween feast later.

'_That went well. I got my hooks into two more people without arousing suspicion. If I jumpstart Neville's development and befriend him I will gain a valuable political ally later. Hermione has her uses and I can probably spare the house elves from S.P.E.W._'

* * *

><p>Hermione Granger was a very confused girl. Draco Malfoy was the last person she had expected to be nice to her considering the general opinion about the Malfoy family she had heard. Rich, influential, arrogant and proponents of pure-blood supremacy were the four main points. It had caused her to avoid him along with most of Slytherin house whenever possible. Seen in the light of today's events he seemed to be a decent person, though. Or he was a good enough actor to hide his true thoughts in pursuit of some secret agenda, which was a very real possibility.<p>

On the other hand everyone talked about the Weasleys like they were well-respected, progressive, on the side of the muggle rights movement and generally likable. In her limited observation of the four Weasleys at Hogwarts that didn't completely hold up. The fifth year Gryffindor prefect Percy was a stickler for rules and seemed a bit arrogant and pompous, but was otherwise okay. The third year twins George and Fred were bullies under the pretense of being pranksters and Hermione did her utmost to avoid becoming a target after she learned that fact. Lastly, Ron was a lazy and bigoted little boy who envied all the people who were more successful than him. He was thoroughly unpleasant to be around, but in an effort of getting along she had helped him with his homework several times. Well, after his behavior today that was a thing of the past.

'_Why did the words of that git affect me so strongly?' _she wondered. _'Probably because I feared them to be true.'_

In reality she got along passably well with her dorm mates Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, Fay Dunbar and Sally-Anne Perks even if she secretly thought them rather immature. Not that she told that opinion anyone, in the interest of her social integration she played along as far as she could stomach. She shuddered to think of how she would have fared had she still been the girl from a little more than a year ago.

Hermione had always been far more intelligent than her peers. Unfortunately she had never been able to make or keep friends. In retrospect it was clear to her that she had displayed a grating know-it-all attitude. Not only did she know more than the other children, she had been desperate for acknowledgement of that knowledge, rubbing it in everybody's faces. In general she worshipped authority, be it books or teachers.

That had changed one day when one of her teachers had led her to an isolated room, ostensibly for advanced tutoring. Then he had locked the door and began _touching_ her. If she had been a normal girl things would have become even worse, but she wasn't normal. In what she now knew had been a bout of accidental magic she had thrown the man against a wall and escaped through the magically unlocked door, but that was not the end of the horror.

The following investigation and trial had been manipulated from the beginning. Incriminating evidence simply disappeared, false witnesses popped up all over the place and her reputation was deliberately ruined. In the end the teacher was acquitted of all charges and her parents were told that they were lucky they weren't being sued in turn. The lowest point had been when she saw the judge shake hands with the man after the trial when she was about to leave the rest room and they thought nobody was watching. In that moment she had lost her trust in authority.

When she told her parents they sat her down and explained to her how the world really worked. It was all about connections and what people you knew. Laws were only the tools the powerful used to control the masses and create an illusion of fairness. Her teacher was related to several rather important people, and they had used their influence to exonerate him from all wrongdoing. The Grangers as ordinary dentists had no chance against that sort of clout. It would be impossible to prove anything; it was basically her word against his in the first place. It had been an eye-opening experience. Hermione hated her new-found knowledge with a passion. The world had seemed a much nicer place when she could still believe in authority, both of persons and of books. She wanted to change it desperately, but to do so she needed to become a part of the system. Otherwise she would never be in a position of power where she could influence things to take a turn for the better. She never wanted to be a helpless victim again.

Hermione had been planning how to go about this endeavor when something completely unexpected happened. They had just changed their residence (there was no way they could stay in that neighborhood with Hermione being called a liar and worse things) when a certain Professor McGonagall arrived and explained about magic. At first she and her parents had been skeptical, but the proof had been undeniable. The first question Hermione had come up with had been how they kept an entire world secret. The answer had terrified her: Memory charms. Even worse, McGonagall didn't see anything wrong with mind-raping non-magicals whenever necessary.

Apparently the magical government had an entire department tasked with rewriting the memories of muggles. Hermione's new mindset caused her immediately to wonder how much they abused that power. If the average witch or wizards could do it too there was no telling what sick things they might do to non-magicals and simply erase the memories afterwards. Other evidence was no problem for people who could simply make things disappear or change into other things with a wave of their wand.

A bit of digging in the book shops of Diagon Alley and the careful interrogation of several wizards her father drank under the table yielded quite a lot of information McGonagall had kept from them. The magical world seemed to be even more corrupt and prejudiced than the non-magical world. As a muggleborn witch Hermione would always be a second- or rather third-class citizen. At the top were the rich and powerful families and some individual persons who for one reason or another had accumulated enough influence to be considered part of the ruling elite with special privileges. The overwhelming majority of the remaining population had some political influence by electing some members of the wizarding parliament and the minister for magic but was otherwise not politically important. All in all it was a plutocracy with a large dose of hereditary elements and some democratic sprinkling thrown in. The widely discriminated muggleborn were generally the lowest in social standing. They weren't prosecuted, but they could almost never hope to rise to good jobs or influence without some sort of patron.

Still, Hermione and her parents considered it a pretty good deal for her to accept her admission into Hogwarts. Even as a muggleborn witch Hermione would be practically unassailable by anything the muggle world could throw at her. As long as she was careful and didn't blatantly violate the statute of secrecy she would be safe. Additionally, a witch in the family ensured her parents some protection from other wizards. They were pretty sure that they would have gotten their minds wiped if they had turned down the professor. From reading some of the books they had already come up with several possible ways to make a fortune without breaking the law, but that would have to wait until she graduated. Hogwarts was **the **magical school in Britain, giving her a pronounced advantage over other, less skilled muggleborns.

"Hermione, are you coming?" Neville asked, startling her out of her thoughts

"Oh, is it already time for the feast? I just need to put my book back and then I'm ready to go." Hermione said before heading to her dormitory. She had totally lost track of time when she had settled in the common room, only interrupted by the other girls who had wanted to make sure she was alright after the classes ended. Of course Weasley had not apologized, but by now she didn't expect anything from him.

Meeting Neville on the Hogwarts express had been a stroke of good luck. It was only after she had helped him search for his toad that she realized the significance of his name. You would never know from looking at the shy and clumsy Neville, but the Longbottoms were one of the important families and held a hereditary seat on the wizengamot. It was then and there that she had made the decision to turn her acquaintance into a mutually beneficial friendship. He needed help to build his self-confidence and she needed a patron. The damned sorting hat had nearly derailed that plan when it tried sorting her into Slytherin. Sorting the ambitious muggleborn into the apparent den of pure-blood prejudice surely seemed a brilliant idea. Luckily the hat had put her into Gryffindor after prolonged arguing for her 'conviction and exquisite stubbornness that would have made Godric proud'. Even more fortunate had been that Neville had joined her in Gryffindor despite his fears of being sorted into Hufflepuff.

Now, after two months at Hogwarts, she could say that he was her first genuine friend. After some prodding he took his classes seriously and didn't goof off like the other boys. To her considerable surprise there was even a class where Neville was better than her. Herbology really was the boy's calling and Hermione suspected that he would be at least passable in potions if it were taught by anyone but Professor Snape.

Quickly she deposited her book in her trunk and hurried back to Neville. Together they made their way down to the great hall just in time for the Halloween feast. The decorations and the food were exquisite, and for a while Hermione put all the serious thoughts out of her mind. Her good mood lasted until Professor Quirrel cam sprinting into the hall and shouted something about a troll.

The headmaster's command to return to the dormitories convinced her that the barmy old man was another authority figure she couldn't trust to do his job properly. Different groups of confused students going in different directions created a completely chaotic situation.

'_All students were in an easily defensible location and he sends us marching through the castle? I guess the older students know enough magic to take on a troll, but what if some lower years get lost in the confusion and have the bad luck to encounter it?' _she thought while keeping Neville close and staying directly behind Percy who was leading them back to their common room.

"How could a troll get in here?" Hermione mumbled.

Neville heard her and replied "Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid. I always thought there are wards or something that protect the school from all harm."

Soon they were safely back in their common room without encountering any sign of the troll. The food had been mysteriously sent up here and most students continued eating. Hermione and Neville joined them after looking at each other and shrugging.

It was about an hour later that Professor McGonagall entered the packed and noisy room.

"Attention, students. The troll has been found and dealt with. The school is safe again. For security reasons the curfew will be in effect until tomorrow morning. Have a good night." she announced.

Hermione didn't pay attention when several students shouted questions. She doubted their stern Professor would answer any of them anyway. Her dreams that night were filled with being chased by a twelve-foot tall grey beast through the corridors.

The next morning when she walked down to breakfast with Neville they took a wrong turn somewhere (Or the castle had changed once again. Honestly, were they doing that deliberately to confuse new students?) and ended up on the third floor. The bathroom and much of the adjoining corridor had been destroyed. Hermione gulped when she saw the destruction.

'_I could have been in there.'_

* * *

><p>"The Chasers throw the Quaffle to each other and try and get it through one of the hoops to score a goal. Ten points every time the Quaffle goes through one of the hoops, but you have to pay attention to…"<p>

Draco listened with half an ear when Stephen explained the rules of Quidditch to Kevin. The rest of his attention was split between the game and his surroundings. On his right side Morag kept her nose firmly in her book and paid no attention to the game. It was an unpleasantly cold day, but wind and weather had rarely any influence on the schedule of Quidditch games.

'_I wonder if and how Tom will make an attempt on Harry's life. The troll was right on schedule, but now Harry isn't playing.'_

The game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was brutal. By the end of it Slytherin won by more than 200 points and several of the Gryffindor players would have to pay visits to the hospital wing. The most serious casualty was Oliver Wood with a cracked skull while Katie Bell had a really nasty open fracture on her arm. The third year seeker Kenneth Towler broke both his legs when he was rammed by one of the Slytherin chasers during a dive and lost control of his broom.

When the students were about to disperse after the game Draco took his leave of his friends and sought out Harry. He found him walking with Justin. Both of them were still slightly pale. _'No wonder, they had a prime view of how Katie's arm was snapped by that bludger.'_

"Hello Harry, Justin. Now that you have seen your first Quidditch game what do you think about it?"

"I don't know. The game seems… very dangerous." Harry answered carefully.

"At first I didn't believe anyone would play something like that. One thing is certain; they wouldn't allow that in the muggle world without a lot of additional safety precautions. Have people died playing that sport?" Justin asked.

Draco shrugged. "Occasionally. The brother of my grandfather for example, but that was long ago. It's probably one of the reasons why he doesn't like the game and that attitude has rubbed off on me."

Harry spoke up again. "I thought at first that I would like it because it's played in the air. Now I'm not so sure."

"Yeah, it does take away the majesty of flying if you have to avoid flying metal balls, doesn't it? I mean, that takes the relaxation aspect completely out of it." Draco answered.

The bespectacled boy nodded slowly. "I see what you're getting at. Guess I won't be trying out next year. Watching the game is enough excitement." Suddenly Harry was scanning their surroundings suspiciously before turning back to Draco. "Listen, can you keep a secret?"

"Sure."

"Last week I, Justin and the two girls got suddenly lost in the castle just before curfew until it was too late. Filch almost discovered us, but we managed to run away. When we tried a door there was this big dog with three heads there. He almost got us before we could get out. I think he is guarding something. We think Snape is trying to steal whatever it is." Harry said in a conspiratorial voice.

'_So Fluffy is in place. I wonder why no one else has discovered him yet; I would have heard people talking. Maybe Dumbledore used an age-triggered compulsion ward to keep students away and specifically lowered it for Harry to discover it?'_

Suddenly he realized that it was time for an answer. "That seems a bit farfetched, doesn't it? I know he can be rather unpleasant, but I doubt he would steal something that Dumbledore wants to keep safe."

"We thought that too, but then I remembered overhearing Snape moaning about three heads the week before last. I'm sure his leg was injured. That means he tried to get past the dog." Justin elaborated.

"I don't know, but I guess everything is possible." Draco said with a shrug.

"We're about to visit Hagrid. Want to come along?" Harry asked after a few seconds of silence.

Draco was about to agree when he spotted a familiar reading redhead who had planted herself in prime view. "Ah sorry, I've promised Morag to help her find a particular book in the library after the game. Have fun, guys."

"You too, Draco."

When he approached Morag the girl stood up and started walking without looking up from her book a single time. The corridors were still crowded, but somehow Morag always managed to sidestep the other people that appeared in her path.

Finally Draco couldn't help himself but ask the question that had been on his mind for quite some time. "How do you manage to dodge all these people without looking up?" he asked.

"Situational awareness."

He waited a few seconds but no further explanations were forthcoming. Apparently that was the only answer he was going to get. Mentally shrugging he continued walking besides Morag into the direction of the library in silence.

* * *

><p>A week before Christmas Draco was confident enough of his ability to find his way inside of Hogwarts to check something very important. It was in the middle of the night when he silently got up from his bed and left first his dormitory and then Ravenclaw Tower with a package in his hands. It had been stored in a hidden compartment of his trunk until tonight. He would have liked to do it sooner, but it had taken him until now to find a route to the seventh floor that wasn't guarded by portraits and the like.<p>

'_I want to enter the Room of Hidden Things. I want to enter the Room of Hidden Things. I want to enter the Room of Hidden Things.'_ he thought while pacing before a tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy.

Suddenly a door appeared in the wall opposite the tapestry. On the other side he found himself in a vast room filled with an incredible collection of mostly broken things. The memories of his older self led him to a specific location, or more accurately a very specific object. The discolored old tiara looked completely unremarkable for anyone not in the know. Draco paused a moment to simply examine it.

'_Such a little thing. It's hard to believe the amount of history this diadem has seen. Created by Rowena Ravenclaw, stolen by her daughter and lost in the woods of Albania for centuries. Retrieved and desecrated by Tom Riddle. It is really a crime what he did to a priceless artifact of the founders.'_

With a sigh Draco ended his contemplation and retrieved a pair of magic-insulating dragon hide gloves along with a pair of tongs and a rune-covered iron lock box from his package. He wouldn't take any risks with a horcrux. After carefully placing it in the box he closed the lid and breathed a sigh of relief. This horcrux was the easiest to get, but he had no way of destroying it at the current time. He couldn't buy basilisk venom at his age and conjuring fiendfyre was still years away. The only thing the lock box did was making the transportation of the horcrux safe. When he returned home for the holidays it would be riding in the secret compartment of his trunk. Once there he would deposit it in the secret hideout his grandfather had shown him until he could take care of it permanently.

Draco left the room again and waited until the door disappeared before he began pacing anew.

'_I need the best possible scrying pool for my skill level. I need the best possible scrying pool for my skill level. I need the best possible scrying pool for my skill level.'_

When he entered this time the room was much smaller. It mainly consisted of a water-filled silver bowl on a pedestal amidst an otherwise empty room. After setting his package on the ground he approached the bowl. The water formed a perfect mirror-like surface, just perfect for a beginner like him.

Draco had begun experimenting with his scrying abilities about a year ago when he had unlocked the necessary memories. It was a slow process, but he didn't need a wand to make it work. His initial range was less than a mile, but since his control over his magic had begun stabilizing he had seen steadily better results. When he had tried it before he left for Hogwarts his range had been up to a dozen miles around the family manor.

Slowly waving his hands above the surface he began with the process that would enable him to learn what he wanted to know. Normally he couldn't penetrate the ancient wards of Hogwarts, but he was now inside these wards. His mirror image on the water distorted until it reformed itself into a view of the third corridor. Carefully Draco began to shift the viewpoint.

'_Let's see what we've got there. Three-headed dog, devil's snare, chess board, room with rapidly moving blocks that looks more like a three-dimensional obstacle course , troll under a stasis charm, table with potions and the final room with the mirror. Interesting, it seems the mirror is already in place. I wonder if the headmaster will remove it specifically to have Harry stumble upon it or if it is a deviation from the original timeline.'_

Draco ended the scrying before humming in thought. The evidence was inconclusive, but it surely seemed that the traps with the exception of the troll were tailored towards Harry and his circle of close friends. Justin was an avid chess player, Susan was quite good in Herbology and Hannah loved logic puzzles. Hagrid would probably provide them with the means of bypassing the dog. The only difference seemed to be the fourth obstacle, but that was probably due to Harry not playing Quidditch this time around. There had been several brooms at the entrance of the room and a lever at the other end that would probably stop the blocks from moving. It was a logical obstacle for someone with flying skills but not much magical experience. Harry and Draco had probably been observed during one or several of their flying contests. Any sort of competent wizard would be able to get through all these traps with ease; the only problems seemed to be the troll and Fluffy. The entire thing was either a test for Harry or some attempt to force a confrontation with Tom. Well, there wasn't anything he could do about it.

He might have been tempted to stage a break-in if it had been the real philosopher's stone, but he knew that it was only a dummy. Really, why should Nicolas Flamel trust a relative youngster like Dumbledore with the stone? The man was over six and a half centuries old. In all likelihood there had been dozens if not hundreds of attempts to either steal the stone or force the Flamels to reveal how one was created. Maybe they didn't even know about Dumbledore's little game to create bait for Tom.

After picking up his package Draco stealthily returned to Ravenclaw Tower and his bed. Before he went to sleep he went over his plans for presents to give to his school friends once again.

'_A charmed bookmark for Morag, a wizard chess set for Justin, a copy of Customs and Traditions of the Magical World for Kevin, a set of enchanted miniature dragons for Stephen and a copy of The Art of Flying for Harry. Hermione, Neville, Susan, Hannah, Daphne, Blaise as well as the rest of the Ravenclaws of my year get Christmas cards. I also should get something small and nice for Grandfather, Mother and Father. Aquila wanted to have those special enchanted goggles for hunting in complete darkness, but I'm not sure I can swing that in time. If not I have to get them for her birthday.'_

* * *

><p>Abraxas pinched his nose tiredly. There simply had to be a way to get young Harry away from his relatives without Dumbledore noticing. He had found a way to create a simulacrum that would make it appear as if he was still there complete with all possible charms laid upon him, but he simply didn't see how they could make the switch. Dumbledore was sure to have posted watchers at least at King's Cross. No, they could only do it once he was under the wards at his home for a few days. By then the surveillance should have lessened. Still, that meant they had to circumvent the wards somehow, and for the life of him he couldn't figure out how to do it.<p>

A house elf popped in, interrupting his thoughts. "Master Abraxas, sir, tea is ready."

"Thank you, Jonny." the old man replied while nodding. Suddenly he felt the beginnings of an idea take shape.

'_House elves. That's it! I will have to test it, but a house elf should be able to penetrate Dumbledore's blasted wards without setting them off. Nowadays hardly anyone thinks about warding specifically against them and the Dumbledore family never owned any. The old fool probably discounts them because they can't be used with malicious intent against other people.'_

A smirk slowly spread over Abraxas' face. The more he thought about it the more feasible the idea appeared. The only thing he needed was for Draco to get a hair, a drop of blood or something similar from Harry. With a bit of luck the boy would be able to meet his great-aunt in a few months.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>My thanks to my reviewers. The next chapter should cover the rest of first year.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 4**

Draco let out a long suppressed yawn when he half-stumbled out of the floo. The New Year reception at the Ministry had been long, tiring and boring. The main thing expected from him was presenting a good image and not getting into any trouble. That meant he had to follow his parents and his grandfather around while he was presented like an exhibition piece. Oh, he recognized all the hidden implications. One purpose was showing to the world that House Malfoy had a healthy heir in the young generation. Another one was familiarizing the other important people with him. Now it didn't do much, but in a few years these connections would come in useful. It was just standard practice for the important wizarding families, really. Still, it was very boring because no one took him seriously; he was just too young. There had been a few of his peers from Hogwarts there and he had talked a bit with them, but mostly he had been standing around. At the end he had trouble staying awake; his body was still young and needed its sleep. Aquila had accompanied them and she was even worse off than Draco; she seemed asleep on her feet.

Bleary-eyed he observed his father and grandfather discussing something when his mother turned around to address them. "Draco, Aquila, you did very well. I'm proud of you. Now off to bed with you."

"Thanks mother." Draco stifled another yawn. "Goodnight."

After arriving at his room he went through the process of getting ready for bed practically on auto-pilot. When he finally crawled under the covers he couldn't stop thinking about an observation he had made during the evening. His grandfather had hidden it well, but he seemed worried about something.

* * *

><p>Abraxas poured himself one last drink before settling down in his study. He had things to think about and he wasn't that tired. At his age he found that he didn't need that much sleep anymore.<p>

'_I'm the last of the old guard. All of the houses that supported Voldemort in the past for a variety of reasons are now headed by people who followed him out of conviction, not out of expediency or for their own plans. Even the new Lord Greengrass leans in that direction; as long as old William was alive he kept House Greengrass strictly neutral. '_

With the opposing houses like the Bones, Potters and Smiths severely damaged in the war there would be no real resistance from the Old Families should Voldemort rise again. The neutrals would either flee the country or come to some sort of arrangement. Alan MacDougal had made it clear to him the last time they talked that under no circumstances would he put up a fight. The survival of his House came first.

By now Abraxas was certain that Voldemort would return. There were a variety of rather vile options to protect oneself against death and Voldemort was sure to have taken at least some of them. The news Draco had brought from Hogwarts had convinced him of that. Something was attacking the unicorns in the forbidden forest and Dumbledore was hiding something in the school. At the same time someone was spreading rumors that Nicolas Flamel had given Dumbledore something for safekeeping, most likely a philosopher's stone. Taken together with the properties of unicorn blood there was no question that someone was prolonging his life with every means possible and wanted a permanent solution.

Granted, it could be someone or something else, but it didn't seem likely. To Abraxas knowledge there weren't any other dark wizards in Britain at the time who would have need of unicorn blood. Neither Voldemort's wand nor body had ever been found. The only indication that he was deceased had been the fading of some of the spells he had personally cast; like the Imperius or the Dark Mark. Now, normally that was a pretty good indication for a wizard's death, but it could very well be that Voldemort was still alive. Weakened, but still alive.

'_What measures has he taken? It can't be a horcrux or phylactery; he would have reformed long ago if his body was destroyed. Storing his life force outside his body by the crystal heart ritual? That would have made his body nearly indestructible, but if it was completely destroyed in that Halloween night by whatever the Potters did it would leave him as a powerless spirit. The only problem is that he wouldn't be able to affect the world at all. Perhaps the rite of Nun'kun'tur? Or maybe he has the Bloody Tear of the Night in his possession. It's possible he found that enchanted ruby somewhere after it was lost more than a century ago.'_

Abraxas sighed. There were just too many different forms of cursed immortality. Without further information it was impossible to tell which one Voldemort had used. That wasn't even considering the possibility that Voldemort may very well have botched whatever he was doing without realizing it or made up a new way to avoid death. In that case nobody could say for certain what might have happened. It would explain his decade-long absence, though.

While Abraxas had some general knowledge of the subject he was not especially familiar with the particulars – he had never even considered making a bid for immortality himself. The price made it not worth it. There were always consequences and he was content with leaving this world when his time came. That brought him back to his current dilemma: the status of the Old Families.

In hindsight it had been a brilliant move on Voldemort's part to invest the effort of recruiting as many as he could of younger generation of many of the Old Families. Abraxas suspected that he would have met a premature end as soon as practical to allow his son to take over; just what had happened to old Lord LeStrange and Lord Nott as well as several inconvenient heirs higher in the chain of succession. The young had been too impatient and blind to see that their Dark Lord was leading them to ruin.

Abraxas sighed in remembrance. At the time supporting Voldemort had seemed a good option. The man had enormous charisma and personal magical power, and he along with some of his fellow lords had seen him as a tool to sway the support of the masses. He would have been able to gather a large part of the wizarding middle class who made up the main part of the Ministry hierarchy. Together with the votes and resources of the sympathetic Old Families it would have been enough to take over the government. Unfortunately the man had started a civil war to achieve his goals.

At first most deaths seemed to be accidents, but over the years it had developed into a campaign of terror. Too many upstanding members of their community had been killed on all sides. Abraxas had wanted the influence of certain factions curtailed, yes, but he didn't want them to be killed. Instead of the hoped for recovery an even greater decrease in strength had happened.

The truly sad thing was that the war had been completely unnecessary. Had Voldemort remained the leader of a purely political movement he would have made Minister for Magic more than a decade ago.

'_There's nothing to be done about it now. Still, Voldemort will face hardly any opposition in case he returns. At least effective opposition. The old fool has no place leading a war, but they will turn to him as always.'_

Unfortunately there wasn't much more that he could do. What funds and assets he could secure without anyone noticing were already safe from his son. Most of the family secrets would be kept from Lucius. He would have wished for more allies, but there were too few of the Old Families left. The Ministry had degenerated into a bunch of busybodies that clung to Dumbledore's coat-tails, were secret Voldemort sympathizers, changed their opinion according to the latest bribe or were hopelessly incompetent at the truly important tasks. Some contacts would be useful for Draco, but not many. Their society respected age; Draco wouldn't be listened to by most people until he came of age. Even then those people would turn to his son, not his grandson.

Abraxas had toyed with the thought of letting his son suffer a… permanent mishap. In the end he couldn't bring himself to do it. Despite all the things he had done over his long life, eliminating a close family member wasn't a thing he was able to do. In the end he did love Lucius. For better or worse, Lucius would take over after Abraxas died.

Thinking about these things filled him with melancholy. He saw the possible ruin of their society coming and could do nothing about it. His only hope was that Voldemort wouldn't return until his grandson was ready. He did have an insurance policy. In the case of his death his compiled findings about Dumbledore and Voldemort would be delivered to Lord MacDougal and Amelia Bones. They weren't exactly allies, but both of them were relatively independent. The main projects in his remaining time in this world would be helping young Harry, teaching his grandchildren and chipping away at Dumbledore's power and reputation as best as he could.

His hand tightened around his drinking glass when he remembered the last session of the board of governors. Normally the troll incident and whatever was stored on the third floor should have been enough to dismiss the old fool from his position, but as always he had managed to coax the governors to do what he wanted, namely ignoring the issues. There wouldn't even be an investigation. Even if a dragon or something was running around at Hogwarts Dumbledore would somehow be able to get the governors on his side. Oh, he probably had to expend some gold and favors to supress everything; that was the only thing that made the affair palatable.

'_At least the creation of the simulacrum is going well. Draco did well by procuring one of Harry's hairs on such a short notice.' _

* * *

><p>Another Malfoy was lying in his dark bedroom besides his sleeping wife and thinking dark thoughts. The reception had once again reminded him of the fact that he still hadn't succeeded his father. Lucius had waited already far too long in his own opinion to assume the position. If the old man hadn't pulled off that miraculous recovery he would have become Lord Malfoy years ago. Instead Abraxas poisoned the minds of his children with visits to the muggle world and similar things. Draco was even allowed to befriend a mudblood! In their clandestine meetings Nott rubbed it in his face that he was the leader of the pureblood coalition, not Lucius. It was simply no longer to be born.<p>

'_Father can no longer be allowed to besmirch the Malfoy name. It's past time for him to go on his next great adventure, as the old fool Dumbledore says. I will have to be subtle and patient, though. Not even the slightest shade of doubt can be allowed to fall on me. I will have to dispose of some objects discreetly. It won't do if they are to be found here.' _His thoughts lightened somewhat when an idea entered his mind. _'Perhaps I can kill several birds with one stone.'_

* * *

><p>Daphne Greengrass silently contemplated her changed situation while brushing her long blond hair. After her grandfather's death Uncle Liam was now head of House Greengrass. Her father's older brother had made it clear at the family gathering that he wouldn't tolerate any 'fraternization' with blood traitors and other undesirables as he saw them. Unfortunately his definition seemed to include a good chunk of Hogwarts' population. Even at her young age it was clear to her that her uncle would steer House Greengrass towards an alliance with the coalition headed by House Nott.<p>

There would be no resistance from her father; while he didn't share her uncle's extreme views he would never go against the express wishes of his brother. That meant she would have to associate with certain people and shun the company of certain others. Unfortunately there weren't many people that fulfilled both the criteria her uncle had set and that she personally liked. She almost gagged at the thought of having to play nice with Theo and Pansy, the self-proclaimed leaders of the Slytherin first years. Oh, Theo was clever, no doubt, but Daphne just plain didn't like him. Pansy's company was nearly intolerable, but there was nothing to be done about it. She would have to don her mask and put on a convincing front of being the girl's friend. Daphne really didn't look forward to doing that for her remaining Hogwarts years. Blaise Zabini was the only Slytherin of her age group she could stand for any length of time. Unfortunately he was a boy. She needed to make another female friend who didn't have her brain surgically removed if she wanted to stay sane.

'_Blaise's family only arrived in Britain a few years ago, but he is a pureblood and a Slytherin, making him acceptable. Draco should be safe to converse with as well even if he isn't in my house. Uncle Liam doesn't like his grandfather but respects his father. Most of the other girls in my year are out for one reason or another. Draco's friend Morag might serve, though.'_

* * *

><p>Aquila waved Draco goodbye until the Hogwarts Express was out of sight. The visit of her brother had been great, but now he was gone again.<p>

"In nine months I will board the train, too." she mumbled to herself.

As soon as she had returned to the side of her family they got in line for the use of the floo station on the platform that would take them back to Malfoy Manor. Back to the boredom of her lessons and rather lonely existence. Sure, she occasionally visited families with children her age, but it was a far cry from having her brother in the house. Aunt Cassie had grown increasingly frail during the last months and rarely left her home anymore. Her mind was prone to wander and sometimes the old woman forgot who Aquila was.

She needed something to do; some project to occupy her thoughts. Suddenly an idea came to her. Ginny was going on and on about how she would one day marry the Boy-who-lived in her letters. Frankly, it was beginning to get on Aquila's nerves. Subtly dissuading the girl from that endeavor would be a worthy pursuit of her time. It would have to be done carefully of course; she didn't want to alienate her pen pal. No friend of hers would simply chase after a boy unthinkingly. The natural state of things was the other way around. As Aunt Cassie always said, men should know their place.

The voice of her mother cut through her thoughts. "Come along, Aquila. You are day dreaming."

"Sorry mother."

* * *

><p>Draco leant back in his seat on the Hogwarts Express and began clearing his mind. Now that all the customary conversation after being separated over the holidays was out of the way he had a bit of time for himself. Morag was reading as usual while Stephen and Kevin were playing a quiet round of Wizard's chess, giving him time to think. Later he would seek out some other people on the train.<p>

Aquila had missed him terribly and hardly left him alone during his visit. He rather enjoyed the company of his little sister, but it had taken up a lot of his time.

He felt a little guilty about not telling his grandfather about the horcrux in his possession, but he couldn't take the risk of his grandfather taking some unfortunate, hasty actions. If the enemy had only been Tom or if his grandfather had longer to live it wouldn't have been a problem, but the true opponent was Dumbledore. The man's misguided actions would bring ruin to the world if left unchecked. Draco didn't want to destroy any Horcruxes prematurely – it would have given the game away. As dangerous as it was Tom would have to rise again to create the necessary openings to bring Dumbledore down. Hopefully it would be possible without damaging their society beyond repair.

The funny thing was that if Dumbledore hadn't begun his little game to draw Tom out of hiding the would-be Dark Lord would have permanently perished on his own in a few years. Even funnier was the reason for that: Tom had made more than one horcrux.

A horcrux anchored the soul in the mortal realm. If the owner was killed it would pull the soul to its location. Then it would begin to absorb magic and raw life force from the surroundings. If a certain threshold was reached a new body would be created and the owner revived. That was the theory, at least.

With several horcruxes the soul would be pulled in several directions at once, making that impossible. In fact Tom's soul would be slowly ripped apart until the main entity dissolved. Each horcrux would hold an equal part of the original soul, not enough by far to be used for a rebirth. The more horcruxes the quicker the process. It would start slow at first and then gain speed. Draco's best estimate was that around ten additional years of wraith-like existence would have sufficed for Tom to never be a danger again. Oh, the horcruxes would still be extremely dangerous dark artifacts, but Tom himself would not be able to return. Unfortunately the process would be slowed down if he regained a body of his own or possessed another one. Like he currently did with Quirrel.

'_Dumbledore has absolutely no concern for the safety of the students. He has to know Tom is possessing Quirrel, but he isn't doing anything about it.'_

His grandfather had made a stink about some of Dumbledore's actions like the dangerous Third Floor or the troll incident, but the revered Headmaster had been able to deflect all questions and inquiries. The only thing it did was chipping away at his reputation and costing him some favors.

Harry was coming along nicely. When Draco compared the other Harry with the real one the sorting into Hufflepuff had done him a world of good. His grades were not exceptional but good enough, probably because Weasley's and Granger's influence in the other timeline had canceled each other out. More important was Harry's mental state. He seemed happier and more relaxed.

Draco's own network of friends and acquaintances continued to grow at a steady pace. He was no one's enemy and maintained ties into all houses. Already some of the first years began to seek his help. Even if he couldn't help them personally he could send them on to somebody who could. It would only grow more pronounced over time. Draco considered it good training for his adult life. In most scenarios he would be involved in politics and knowing people would come in useful. His grandfather and even his father approved.

Aside from that he was always in the top five of the classes, as documented by the grades of the last term. Draco attributed that mostly to his more adult mindset. He could easily achieve first place in all classes, but he had judged that too suspicious. Hermione had the honor of being the best student in Charms, Transfiguration and Defense against the Dark Arts, with Harry being hot on her heels in the last subject. Neville was the best in Herbology while Theo Nott excelled in Potions. Only in History of Magic and Astronomy Draco occupied the top position, mostly because he and Morag hadn't shared the secret of the proper book and knowledge of the stars was important for his divination talent, respectively. It was the closest thing to an education in actually working divination he could get at Hogwarts. He would stay as far away from Trelawny as he could.

Secretly his control over his magic continued to expand and he could successfully cast some third year spells. He was still missing many of the theoretical underpinnings and unfortunately he still lacked the power for most of the more powerful spells, but that was a thing only time would cure.

'_Ask me for anything but time.'_

* * *

><p>Old snow scrunched under Ginny's feet as she plodded towards the broom shed. A few moments later she soared towards the sky on Percy's broom. The wind was biting cold, but she simply couldn't bear being pent-up in the house any longer. Her dad was working at the ministry while her mother was visiting Aunt Muriel all day. Thankfully Ginny had been able to bow out by pretending a headache. If she saw the old harridan on her death bed it would be too soon. On the bright side it gave her the opportunity to fly. She simply loved flying, but her mother never allowed her to mount a broom. Well, she had simply taken to breaking into the broom shed when nobody was watching.<p>

After performing several quite daring maneuvers for about ten minutes Ginny reduced her speed to a slow pace. She kept the broom just above the tree tops while she made her rounds over the orchard, relaxing a bit.

The visit to Romania and Charlie during the holidays a month ago had been exciting, but now it was back to her boring and lonely routine. Day after day of teaching by her mother began to wear on her, especially because Ron wasn't there anymore. She didn't like him that much (Charlie and especially Bill were her favorites), but he had divided their mother's attention.

At times Ginny found the overbearing attitude of her mother suffocating. With her being the only one at home it had grown nearly unbearable. The only bright spots were the letters from Aquila every few days and the few opportunities when she could sneak out to fly.

The letters of the Malfoy girl had opened an entirely different world to her. A world of House politics, intrigue, marriage alliances, balls and similar things. It was completely different from what her parents taught her. The Weasleys were not a rich or important family. They were purebloods, yes, but they had never belonged to the first circles. Some of them had made their way in the ministry, but most had been craftsmen of different sorts. The Prewetts on her mother's side had been generally better off, but even they didn't belong to the Great Houses. There were just so many things she didn't know.

And Harry Potter belonged to those lofty circles, as Aquila had pointed out. Certain things would be expected from the future Lady Potter. If she wanted to have any chance with him she would have to learn. Aquila had been happy to oblige and sent her books about etiquette, estate management, hosting social gatherings and all the other things a young lady was supposed to know. Ginny had to hide those from her parents; they wouldn't approve of her writing to a Malfoy, much less taking lessons from one. Surprisingly Aquila did know more about the Muggle world than Ginny. For all her father's fascination with all things muggle he wasn't exactly a spring of accurate information.

That was important, too. Harry had grown up in the muggle world. He would expect his wife to be comfortable there. It had nearly shattered Ginny's world when she learnt that nothing written in the books about him was true. From what Aquila wrote her Harry was nothing like the hero the books described or the tales her mother told her as bedtime stories each evening.

Ginny snorted when she thought about it. The third-hand information about Harry from Aquila was far more accurate than anything her own brothers wrote her. Percy had only mentioned casually that Harry seemed to be a rule-abiding boy who didn't get into trouble, the twins had described him as dull and Ron… well, according to Ron's letters he was best friends with the Boy-who-lived and knew all sorts of things about him. According to Aquila's letters nothing could be further from the truth. Apparently Ron had gotten on Harry's bad side from the start and was viewed as a nuisance. Between the two of them she knew whose words she trusted, and that someone wasn't her brother.

Ginny sighed. The pictures of the Boy-who-lived and the real Harry Potter just didn't seem to fit together. Did she have a crush on Harry Potter the hero or Harry Potter the boy? Ginny honestly didn't know. She would have to see for herself when she went to Hogwarts in September. One thing was certain; she never wanted to become a stay-at-home wife like her mother. She wanted independence, glamour and adventure.

* * *

><p>"Draco, can I talk to you privately for a minute?"<p>

The aforementioned boy looked up from his book. "Sure Daphne. Just let me finish what I'm working on. It won't take long."

The blond girl gave him a nod and Draco returned to his work. For several minutes the scratching of his quill was the only sound in the mostly deserted library. It was an early Saturday morning and most students were still sleeping. Some fifth and seventh years were already studying for the exams in a few months, but they were the only ones. His friends were still asleep when Draco had left the Ravenclaw dormitory about an hour earlier. After returning the book to its shelf Draco furled his parchment and tucked it into his bag. When he looked at Daphne he saw that the girl was in a somber mood. Perhaps some cheering up was in order.

"Milady, would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you to breakfast?" he asked with a bow.

The hint of a smile ghosted over Daphne's features and she curtsied. "How could anyone withstand such a polite request? Lead away, milord." When he reached her she snaked her arm through his offered one.

After they left the library behind and nobody was there to overhear them Draco voiced a question. "What can I do for you, Daphne?"

Daphne stayed silent for a moment, probably to compose herself. "Would you let me join your group of friends? I tried to approach Morag on my own, but you know how she is."

That he did. Morag rarely spoke, and she didn't have any real female friends as far as he could tell. He had noticed Daphne hanging around more often in the last months. Still, the request was unusual. "Why is that? I thought you joined Pansy's group."

"I did, but not willingly. You are aware of House Greengrass' new leadership?" Seeing his nod she continued speaking. "I want alternatives, Draco. Theo is bearable, but if I have to listen to another of Pansy's imbecilic rants about proper clothing or blood superiority I will strangle her."

The blond boy chuckled lightly. "Such a violent attitude. I like that."

That comment earned him a slight slap on his shoulder. "Be serious. You are acceptable company in my uncle's eyes, as is Morag. I won't be able to escape the Slytherin girls completely, but it will help."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You do know that Morag doesn't talk much?"

Daphne shrugged. "I don't care. It's either that or pretend for the rest of my time at Hogwarts that I'm an obedient little follower. I really have better things to do with my time than to cultivate the rivalry with the Gryffindorks, antagonize Potter and the Hufflepuffs or slander muggleborns."

"Why are you telling me this? What do you want?"

Once again Daphne shrugged. "My grandfather respected your grandfather and told me much. I watched you. You seem to be following his example. Everyone can see that the fanatics didn't do us much good. I don't want to be dragged into things when the next Dark Lord rises, but with my uncle in control my family will be in the midst of it. You offer a way out that won't get me tossed out of House Greengrass. I don't care about ideology one way or another."

Draco had to think about that for a few minutes and they continued their way in silence. These revelations were unexpected. Daphne had been one of the children he had been in loose contact with before Hogwarts, but he didn't know her well. He honestly didn't know if the other Daphne had harbored similar views to the real one. After all, the other Draco had (incompetently) occupied the place Theo Nott now held. The other Daphne had kept her head down the entire time before disappearing during her seventh year. Some rumors about her fleeing to Africa and marrying one of the wizard kings of the African confederation had reached the other Draco's ears in later years, but nothing more.

Daphne had always been very different from her younger sister Astoria, in character as well as looks. The blond sister had possessed a sharp tongue and an even sharper wit, the brunette while not stupid had been more or less average intelligence-wise. Daphne had cultivated an aura of aloofness that had caused her to be called the Ice Queen of Slytherin by some people. Astoria had been very much a social animal.

In the future the other Draco had married Astoria Greengrass to cement a political alliance, but it hadn't been a happy marriage. It wasn't that they hated each other. There simply hadn't been any shred of emotion or real attraction between them. They had put up a front for the world and went about their own business in private. After the birth of their son they had never shared a bed again. Here it touched some of the memories Draco hadn't explored yet; they had the equivalent to a sign reading 'do not watch until puberty' on them.

Apparently the silence had stretched for too long as Daphne continued speaking. "I'm not as childish as many of our peers. Mother and Grandmother trained me well, not like those simpletons Pansy and Tracy. I can see what you are doing, just like I see how Granger has made Longbottom her project and ticket into high society. She might even succeed if she can win his grandmother over."

"Oh? And what is it that I'm doing?"

"You are building a faction. You do associate with purebloods as well as muggleborn to some degree, keeping your options open and making you a neutral. More importantly, you aren't an idiot who lords his family over everyone. As I said I don't want to take one of the old sides, meaning I want in on yours. I can be your contact into Slytherin." Daphne explained.

They had almost reached the great hall. There wasn't much time left for him to make a decision. "Very well, I will talk with Morag about it. As far as I'm concerned you can join, but it's her call if she wants you as a real friend. How about we meet this afternoon at the shores of the black lake, right by the old oak?"

A rare full smile graced Daphne's lips. "Thank you, Draco. You won't regret this."

They split up to their respective tables when they reached the great hall. He hoped Morag would accept Daphne as more than an acquaintance. It would be a shame to waste such an opportunity.

Several hours later Morag accompanied Draco over the snowy fields surrounding Hogwarts. It was already mid-March, but the winter proved to be persistent in the Scottish mountains. By now he had given up on figuring out how she managed to perceive her surroundings with her head buried in a book. Morag hadn't said much other than that she wanted to meet with Daphne herself after Draco explained the situation. Draco took it as a good sign. His red-headed friend was very picky about the company she kept and anything other than an outright refusal was a very good sign.

As expected Daphne awaited them at the agreed upon spot. "Hello Draco, Morag."

Before Draco could say anything Morag spoke up. "I have to give it to you, you are certainly persistent."

Then a second thing happened Draco hadn't expected.

Morag put her book away.

A moment later Morag's piercing ice-blue eyes met Daphne's inscrutable grass-green gaze. Seconds stretched into minutes and still the girls were staring into each other's eyes. Draco didn't have the slightest idea what they were hoping to achieve by that, none of them were proficient in legilimency as far as he knew.

Suddenly Morag smiled. "I like you. Let's be friends."

Daphne blinked in confusion before she too began smiling. "Great. Anything you like to talk about?"

"Several topics come to mind, but not in the present company." She turned towards Draco. "Thank you for your help. Now go and plot the takeover of the world or whatever you're doing all the time."

Shaking his head Draco left the two to their girl talk. Morag had always stayed away from other girls and now she and Daphne were suddenly friends. Who could understand females? Two girlish giggles sounding from behind him caused him to fasten his speed. Never before had he heard Morag or Daphne giggling like that; surely the world was coming to an end.

* * *

><p>Albus Dumbledore smiled genially while he presided over today's dinner. He always enjoyed watching the children. It served to remind him of his purpose: To make a better world. Being the Headmaster of Hogwarts gave him the unique position to subtly steer all of Wizardkind towards the future by influencing the young generation.<p>

It had come as a bit of surprise when Harry was sorted into Hufflepuff, but it had always been a possibility. The sorting hat was more than a bit unpredictable and Albus had remained open for all contingencies. It wasn't anything to be concerned about, really. All things considered, loyalty might even work better than courage in the end. Pomona wasn't as easily influenced as Minerva, but that just meant he had to invest a bit more effort and be a bit more forceful. Harry was developing acceptably after a few subtle prods here and there, but he was growing a bit too confident. A message to Petunia reminding her of the underage restrictions might be in order.

It was unfortunate that young Ronald hadn't managed to strike up a friendship with him. The Weasleys were such a good family and always open to his suggestions. Well, it could always happen in the future. For now he had to work with Harry's current crop of friends. Two witches from notable Light families and a muggleborn made for a good environment, even if he had to take more intrusive measures with them than he really liked. Alas, he couldn't take the chance that one of them brought certain matters to either their parents' or Harry's attention.

Albus frowned mentally when his eyes fell on the young Mr. Malfoy. It was always heartwarming for a member of such a dark family finding the way to the Light, but he had an unfortunate influence on Harry. From what he had gleaned from the boy's mind it wasn't a deliberate effort to disrupt his plans for Harry; he just was a generally helpful person. Unfortunately it would lead to complications if Harry learned the wrong things at the wrong time. Harry's close friends had already been dealt with and the more general Hogwarts wards dealt with the rest, but he couldn't do the same thing here. Old Abraxas was paranoid, ruthless and well-versed in the mind arts. If he found proof for something untoward he could make life even more difficult for Albus. The man's actions on the board of governors were bad enough. That meant anything truly effective would be too suspicious. He would have to try something subtle and hope for the best.

His mental frown deepened when his gaze swept over Quirinus. The man had only been supposed to spread some rumors in Voldemort's vicinity to draw him out, not to act as a host to possession. Alas, it seemed poor Quirinus had given in to the darkness. Now it was too late and Albus had to work with the situation.

'_I need to gauge the effects Voldemort and Harry have on each other. Harry suffers from headaches whenever they are in close proximity; that much I know. Perhaps I should force a confrontation between them early?'_

The prophecy simply had to be fulfilled. It was the only way.

* * *

><p>Draco was studying together with Morag and Stephen in a corner of the Ravenclaw common room when Kevin approached them.<p>

"Hey Draco, have you heard the latest news? Potter is in the hospital wing. Apparently he, Finch-Fletchley and Nott had detention in the Forbidden Forest. Something happened, but none of the other two is talking. Or at least Nott isn't; Finch-Fletchley wasn't with them at the time." Kevin said.

Draco frowned. "Detention in the Forbidden Forest? What in the world did they do to earn that?"

Kevin shrugged. "No idea. It's probably why Hufflepuff lost a hundred points a few days back."

Stephen hummed thoughtfully. "I heard from Ernie in Hufflepuff that Professor Sprout and McGonagall got into an argument a few days ago and another one earlier today. Do you think that this is related?"

Kevin was quick to answer and soon the two of them were engrossed in spinning a conspiracy theory involving the Hufflepuffs taking over the world and the Gryffindors taking a stand to prevent it. Morag didn't look up from her books, but it was always very hard to tell with her if she listened or not.

Draco stayed silent and not because he was studying. No, he had just realized something. He hadn't spoken to Harry for almost two weeks. Even in the month before that their meetings had become more sporadic. For everyone looking from the outside it would just seem like they had slowly grown apart. It was completely different from Draco's perspective, though. His plan called for regular, low-key contact with Harry. Breaking contact for no good reason simply went against that. That meant something was wrong with him.

'_I will have to check my mind as soon as possible.'_

A few hours later he drew the curtains of his bed closed and began to meditate. The complicated and esoteric procedure wasn't a normal part of occlumency, but the other Draco had sought the knowledge out and sent it back in time. Being able to check your own mind for anomalies was a very useful skill.

Midnight had long passed when Draco found what he was searching for. It was an incredibly subtle compulsion lodged in his subconsciousness to avoid contact with Harry. Draco had never seen such a subtle but effective spell. Even an in-depth legilimency scan would have trouble picking it up. The compulsion didn't control his actions, but it nudged him into a general course of action. He would rationalize his behavior without any further input. A normal child would never have noticed anything. Now that he knew what the problem was it was easy to consciously break the compulsion.

'_Damn, the old man got me good. I never noticed him casting any spells at me.'_

As far as he could tell nothing else had been done to him, but that was hardly any consolation. Apparently even his low-key contact with Harry had been enough to rouse Dumbledore's suspicion, but not enough to resort to more drastic measures.

'_I have to keep some contact with Harry.'_ Draco thought. _'If I use meetings with Justin as a pretense I can probably get away with some limited conversations. The school year is almost over anyway; I'll have to think it through carefully during the summer.'_

* * *

><p>Theodore Nott turned restlessly in his bed. He was pretty sure he had seen the Dark Lord in the forest for a moment. If only he hadn't panicked! Now the chance to make contact was gone. At least he could tell his father that the Dark Lord was still alive. For whatever reason the Dark Lord was in hiding Theo didn't know, but he was sure he had good reasons. That meant the knowledge couldn't be allowed to spread further.<p>

In retrospect getting caught while trying to expose Potter and the mudblood when they smuggled a dragon out of the castle was a lucky coincidence. Even more so was the detention in the Forbidden Forest. Without that he would never have seen the Dark Lord.

He frowned. Why had he felt the need to spy on Potter? Yes, he had seen him with the dragon in Hagrid's hut and learnt that Hagrid's associates would arrive that night at the top of the tallest tower to take him away, but why had he spied on him in the first place? Furthermore, traipsing around in the castle at night was just stupid. That wasn't how he worked. He could just have let Professor Snape know; the man would have handled it from there.

A slight rippling in the air caught his attention. Before he could form another thought a sleeping spell hit him. Theodore never heard the sigh and the aged voice of the invisible visitor.

"I'm sorry Mr. Nott, but some things are better kept secret. You played your part acceptably. Obliviate!"

* * *

><p>"Why do we need to know which batty old wizard invented self-stirring cauldrons? We aren't even allowed to use those in Potions class." Stephen grumbled.<p>

"Relax, the exams are over." Kevin placated him. "I'm sure we all passed."

The two continued speaking about the History of Magic exam, but Draco tuned them out. Morag and Daphne seemed to do the same. With the exams over there was just one thing left this term, namely the attempt at the fake philosopher's stone. With the confrontation in the forest taking place roughly like the other time around it was almost certain that it would happen, too. Tonight was his best guess, but there really wasn't anything he could do. He would have to let things play out.

From their position on one of the grassy slopes Draco had a good view of the school grounds. The day was sunny and warm; students were relaxing all around and enjoying the day; the giant squid was playing with the Weasley twins and another Gryffindor. He could see Harry's group stretched out in the grass under a tree by the lake. Harry had been rubbing his scar an awful lot in the last few days; a sure sign that something was wrong.

"I wonder who sends an owl at this time. Don't they normally arrive in the mornings?" Kevin asked when a post owl made its way to Hogwarts.

"Not really. They come in spread all over the day, but they can hardly interrupt the classes each time a student gets mail, can they? The owls just wait in a special owlery until they are allowed to deliver their load." Draco answered absentmindedly. His attention was on the group of Hufflepuffs now hurrying towards Hagrid's hut.

"Oh, I guess that makes sense. Hey, what are you doing during the summer holidays? I'll be in Spain the entire time; my family owns a house there." Kevin remarked.

That led to them sharing holiday plans. Stephen would help his father with his business while Draco, Morag and Daphne had no detailed plans aside from tutoring by their families.

"Well, we can always stay in contact via owls or floo. I guess I'll see Draco at the midsummer ball of the ministry at the latest. What about you, Morag?" Daphne asked.

The voice of the red-haired girl was slightly muffled by her book. "I will be there this year, too. Draco, I expect you to dance with each of us."

The blond boy let out a sigh and rolled his eyes. "Yes dear."

After a moment of silence Stephen and Kevin guffawed loudly while Daphne giggled. Morag's current book collided with his head, but she didn't put any force behind the blow. "Behave."

Draco smirked. "Yes dear."

The boys and Daphne laughed even louder. A few seconds later Morag and Draco himself joined in. After they had calmed down the group lapsed into silence and just enjoyed the day. A glance to the side showed Draco that Kevin and Stephen were now dozing in the sun, as were the two girls of their group. For once Morag wasn't reading and just enjoyed the sunshine. Not much more was done that day.

On the evening Draco waited until his roommates had drifted to sleep before he retrieved a small silver bowl from the secret compartment of his trunk. He left the dormitory for the restroom, careful not to wake anyone. Once there Draco filled the bowl with water and locked himself inside one of the toilets. Hopefully he would remain undisturbed.

A bit of concentration and mumbled incantations later the water surface showed a blurry image of the three-headed dog. The quality wasn't good, but Draco didn't want to risk using the Room of Requirement. Until he mastered enough spells to move undetected another nightly visit there was far too dangerous. He would have to make do with what he had.

When he shifted the view he saw that the Devil's snare had been partially burned. The pieces of the chessboard in the next room were just taking their original positions again.

'_No unconscious body. I guess Justin is a better chess player than the Weasel.'_

In the next chamber he saw Justin, Hannah and Susan standing around anxiously. Harry was sitting on a broom and bracing the three-dimensional moving room. A strange blind spot caught his attention. Apparently someone was standing there to the side under heavy duty concealment charms. At his current skill level and with this equipment he couldn't see through it, but he could see that _something_ was there.

'_Probably Dumbledore.'_

Harry managed to reach the other end of the room and pulled the lever. A moment later the blocks formed a stable path through the room. The three Hufflepuffs and Dumbledore followed. The next room only contained an unconscious troll, but the logic puzzle stopped the group's advance for a time. Judging from her gestures Hannah was arguing a point. Some further arguing and a potion later Harry walked through the flame barrier, leaving his friends behind. Before they could do anything they suddenly slumped to the floor unconscious or sleeping. The invisible figure bent over each child before it simply wandered through the flames.

Without sound the confrontation between Harry and Quirrel wasn't especially interesting. His scrying only showed Harry putting up a good fight for an eleven year old, but it wasn't enough. It ended with Harry grabbing Quirrel's face. In the next moment Draco lost the contents of his stomach. Luckily he was in the right place for that. Quirrel's flesh boiling away and a dark shade ripping out of his body had been far more horrible to behold than he had thought.

After Draco recovered enough to continue his scrying he saw that Dumbledore had dispelled his invisibility and was now tending to Harry. Quirrel was only a mass of boiled, half-molten, ripped flesh. Draco couldn't make out details, but apparently Dumbledore did some spell work on all the Hufflepuffs. He ended the scrying with the image of Dumbledore levitating all of them out of there.

'_What a bastard. He could have taken care of Quirrel the entire time but chose to do nothing. Well, there's nothing more to do for me. Hopefully grandfather will manage to get Harry away from his relatives as soon as possible. After that experience he will need help from a mind-healer or at least someone sympathetic.'_

* * *

><p>Harry endured one last hug from Susan and Hannah under the eyes of Mr. and Mrs. Abbott before they had to part ways. Susan's aunt didn't have the free time to collect her; she would accompany Hannah. Justin had already departed, but Harry wanted to delay his inevitable meeting with the Dursleys as long as he could.<p>

"Hope you have a good holiday." Hannah said when she released the hug.

"Oh, I will," said Harry. They seemed surprised at the grin that was spreading over his face. "They don't know we're not allowed to use magic at home. I'm going to have a lot of fun with Dudley this summer..."

Hannah and Susan giggled. With a last wave to them he turned towards the gate. A wizened old guard was standing besides the barrier, letting them through in twos and threes. When it was his turn he immediately ducked into the crowds as he spotted a familiar redhead surrounded by other redheads.

'_Why are Ron and the Weasleys out here? The floo and the apparition point are on the platform.'_

"Ready, are you?"

It was Uncle Vernon, still purple-faced, still mustached, still looking furious at the nerve of Harry, carrying an owl in a cage in a station full of ordinary people. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were nowhere to be seen. "Hurry up, boy, we haven't got all day." Vernon said before he walked away.

Harry followed in the wake of his uncle. _'He does have one good thing going for him; no one is likely to stand in his path if he can help it. Crushed-by-walrus is not a nice death.'_

Unbidden the memories of Quirrel's last moments rose from his memories. The blistering, almost cooking skin sloughing off from the man's face under Harry's hands... his unearthly screams mixed with the shouts of Voldemort to kill him...

Harry shoved the memories down. He didn't want to think about that. Years spent with the Dursleys had given him the ability to ignore things if he didn't want to face them, like the gnawing hunger if he was confined to his cupboard for days without food.

A silent car drive later he unloaded his trunk from Vernon's car and dragged it into the house. His uncle was already waiting for him. The moment the front door closed he began to bluster. "Boy, I don't know what they teach you at this school of yours, but we will have no freakishness here. You will stay in your room when you aren't busy with chores. Now hand over that stick of yours."

"But uncle, I won't like that. It just might happen that Dudley regains his tail… like by magic." Harry said, suppressing the smirk that threatened to appear on his face.

The voice of his aunt pitched in unexpectedly. "That's not true, Vernon. _They_ aren't allowed to do you-know-what outside of school. My sister bemoaned that every summer."

A dangerous glint entered the fat man's eyes. "Is that so?"

Harry had hardly time to blink before he found himself on the floor. His left cheek hurt.

"That's for lying to me. Now give me that stick of yours."

Grudgingly Harry handed over his wand. A few minutes later Harry was confined to his room. It had a few new locks on the outside and a cat flap installed. Iron bars before the window made an escape impossible. His wand had been thrown into his trunk and stored in the cupboard under the stairs. Hedwig was still confined to her cage, hooting unhappily.

'_Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have known Aunt Petunia knew the underage restrictions.'_

This looked to become one of the worst summers of his life.

Three days later, Harry tiredly dragged himself to his bedroom, slipped inside and closed the door. After one day in total confinement the Dursleys had let him out to work. He even got fed, thanks to their 'generosity'.

Harry turned to collapse on his bed. The trouble was, there was already someone sitting on it. Harry managed not to shout out, but it was a close thing. The little creature on the bed had large, bat-like ears and bulging green eyes the size of tennis balls. More disturbing was what was lying beside it on the bed. It looked like a naked person with dark hair and green eyes simply staring at the ceiling.

A squeaky voice spoke. "Dobby is sorry."

The creature snapped with his fingers and something wet splattered on Harry from above. A moment later everything went black.

* * *

><p>Slowly the world swam into focus. A face was directly before him. Bushy white eyebrows, shoulder length white hair, a twirled mustache and a pointed beard. Cool grey eyes examined him closely. A moment later the person leant back and Harry could see that he was sitting in a chair across from him.<p>

"Good, you are awake. The paralysis should wear off soon. You are currently safe, Mr. Potter. I mean you no harm. My name is Abraxas Malfoy. Draco is my grandson."

"What have you done to me? Where am I?" Harry managed to croak out. His voice wasn't working right. From what he could see he was inside some bedroom.

"I have had you removed from the care of your… guardians. We are currently at Dew Cottage. There is a relative here that would very much like to see you." the man answered.

"I… I have other relatives than the Dursleys?" Harry asked before he could stop himself. Speaking was becoming easier by the second.

Mr. Malfoy chuckled. "You have a lot of relatives from your father's side, Mr. Potter. Draco is actually one of them. Can you walk?"

Different half-formed thoughts whirling in his head Harry simply complied with the request. Draco had always spoken highly of his grandfather. For now Harry decided to go along with him. Well, that and everyone who wanted to get him away from the Dursleys was good in his book. Harry's legs were still a bit shaky, but after a few steps it got better.

"Good, the potion had no ill effects. I apologize for abducting you, but otherwise you would never have been allowed to leave."

Harry was confused. "Why? I don't understand."

The white-haired man sighed. "There are many things you don't know. Without the necessary knowledge there can be no understanding. I will explain more later on, but we have kept our host waiting too long already. Come along, young man."

With these words Mr. Malfoy put his hand on Harry's shoulder and led him out of the bedroom, through a hallway and down some stairs. It was clearly a wizard's home. The magical pictures were a dead giveaway. The old man stopped before a door and knocked. When no answer came he opened it and ushered Harry inside.

It was some sort of drawing room. A black-clad old woman was sitting in a rocking chair, staring out of the window. Her black hair was streaked with grey. When Mr. Malfoy cleared his throat she turned towards them. Her eyes widened. "James, is that you?"

"Have you taken your medicine, Cassie?" Mr. Malfoy asked gently before Harry could answer.

"Oh, silly me. I must have forgotten." The woman rummaged in one of the pockets of her robe until she retrieved a small bottle filled by a blue liquid. After she took a sip the bottle once again disappeared in her pocket. From one moment to the next the gaze of her blue eyes became far sharper and much more focused. "Ah, much better. You must be Harry. Don't you want to greet your dear old grandaunt properly?"

Harry's confusion only grew. "Excuse me, but who are you?"

The woman's eyes swiveled to the man at his side. "You haven't told him anything, have you, Abraxas?"

Mr. Malfoy shook his head. "No, I haven't. We couldn't risk openly speaking with him where certain parties could intervene. Just now I judged meeting with you as quickly as possible was more important than telling stories. He knows barely anything in general and practically nothing about his family."

"Could someone please tell me what is going on here?" Harry asked in an irritated voice. He didn't like it when people talked about him like he wasn't there; he got that enough at the Dursleys.

A sigh came from the old witch before she turned back to him. "I'm Cassiopeia Black. You can call me Aunt Cassie. My little sister Dorea was your grandmother. I have been looking forward to meeting you for years."

Harry's thoughts came to a crashing halt. _'There is someone there who actually wants to see me.'_ A moment later he shook himself out of his stupor. _'Stupid, naturally I have grandparents. I just never thought to ask.'_

A slight shove from Mr. Malfoy signaled him that he should get closer to his aunt. When he approached her she suddenly reached out and pulled him into a tight hug. Harry immediately stiffened. He still wasn't used to being hugged, even if Susan and Hannah did that a lot to him. Still, this was the first time an adult hugged him. It didn't seem like Aunt Cassie wanted to release the hug anytime soon, so he tried to relax. His emotions were far too chaotic to form coherent thoughts. Casually he noticed the sound of a door. Apparently Mr. Malfoy had left them alone.

Suddenly something wet hit his face. When he looked up he could see Cassie crying, but she was still smiling. It only confused Harry more. "Why are you crying?"

The old witch sniffled a bit before hugging him even tighter. "I'm just happy to see you, Harry. You are family. My brother and cousin tried for years to find you and get custody. I almost didn't believe anymore that I would get to meet you."

That only added to Harry's confusion. The Dursleys obviously never wanted him, so why was he forced to stay with them when there were relatives who cared for him?

Meanwhile, Cassie continued speaking. "There are certain powerful people who never wanted us to meet. Many things have been kept from you, Harry. Don't worry, we will keep you safe."

"What about the Dursleys?" he asked anxiously. "Professor Dumbledore said I had to stay with them. Won't they notice that I'm gone?"

Cassie let out an angry snort. "There are measures in place to hide your absence. You will be staying with me for this summer. There is no way I will let you return to those horrible muggles. I won't let them hurt you anymore."

Harry liked that. He had still thousands of questions, but that could wait. For the first time in his life he had someone who cared for him. This looked to become the best summer of his life.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong> It has been quite some time, but I finally managed to complete another chapter. Thanks for the reviews.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 5**

"Look into my eyes, Harry. Try to relax. Legilimens!"

There was a moment of resistance when Abraxas encountered the natural barriers of Harry's mind, but for a legilimens of his level it was child's play to slip by the barriers without damaging them. A bit of carefully targeted pressure and Harry slipped into a trance-like state. He wouldn't notice the passing of time until Abraxas was finished. There really was no need for the boy to relive his memories. Then he began sorting through Harry's mind. It was rather unorganized place; typical for someone never taught mental discipline.

It was the second day of Harry's stay in Dew cottage. Abraxas had given Harry and Cassiopeia as much time together as possible, but today he finally wanted to learn why Dumbledore was so focused on the boy. He felt a little bad about lying to Harry (he had said he was just doing some health checks), but it would take too long to gain the boy's trust and ferret everything out. Reading his mind was much easier. He would simply remove the memories of it later.

Several hours later Abraxas ended his exploration of Harry's mind. He was angrier than he had been in a long time. Abraxas hadn't been especially close to the Potters but no child of an old family should have been subjected to this. Harry had been systematically abused by the filthy muggles Dumbledore had left him with. It was mainly emotional abuse, but there was some amount of physical abuse thrown in. His natural curiosity and ambition had been almost completely stamped out. The same was true for his self-worth. Harry would blame every little thing that went wrong on himself. The damage to his psyche was enormous and long-lasting. Subtle signs for obliviations and other kinds of mental influence were all over the place. This obsession with the philosopher's stone was simply not natural. Against any sort of competent wizard the traps would have been a bad joke, meaning the thing was staged from the beginning. At least he now had the certainty that Voldemort was in some state of incorporeal undeath.

He finally knew what Dumbledore wanted Harry for. He was the old fool's weapon against Voldemort, perhaps combined with other plans. There was no other explanation; Harry had been practically thrown against Voldemort. The interesting part was that Harry had a devastating effect against Voldemort's vessel. He would have to investigate that further. Unfortunately the simulacrum interfered with a closer investigation.

Abraxas forcibly calmed himself. He had to think things through carefully before he acted. Now that he knew for certain that Voldemort was still around and trying to come back it changed things. It was only a matter of time until he succeeded. The problem was that there was no one left who would fight him competently. In fact, he was almost certain that his son and many others would join him again, especially because Abraxas had only around one and a half years left. Without him there to pull the strings the Ministry would flounder around ineffectively. Dumbledore's faction was totally inept at fighting such a civil war.

'_There's only one solution. I have to get Draco and Aquila out of the country with as many funds as I can manage. It is the only way to secure the family's future. Once they are grown up they will have to decide for themselves if it is worth returning to Britain.'_

A psychopath like Voldemort would ruin the country before long, even if he managed to win his little war. That left Harry and Dumbledore's schemes.

'_I could bring it to the Ministry, but Dumbledore was very careful. There is no direct proof that he knew about things.'_

There was circumstantial evidence galore, of course. Unfortunately it wouldn't be enough. There were still many people who almost worshipped Dumbledore and would give him the benefit of the doubt when he presented himself as a bleeding heart who had put his trust in Harry's muggle aunt. No one would be able to prove beyond a doubt that it was different, not with the evidence available. Even if Abraxas somehow managed to get Dumbledore dosed with Veritaserum (which was very unlikely) he would most likely be able to give extremely misleading answers. That was one of Dumbledore's specialties and he was an accomplished occlumens, after all. The man seldom lied outright, he misled and gave half-truths.

If he wasn't mistaken the host of monitoring charms that was currently attached to the simulacrum of Harry could be dispelled from Dumbledore's side without leaving a trace behind. In the same vein he would be unable to prove that it had been Dumbledore who had mentally influenced Harry. The stuff at the school with the traps and other things wouldn't cast a good light on Dumbledore, but once again it wouldn't be enough to actually prove malicious intent and get people to actually take action. The non-actions of the Board of Governors were proof enough.

All in all the chances were better than even that Dumbledore would get away with things if Abraxas went public at this point. Even worse, he would identify Abraxas as an enemy who was on to his game. That was completely unacceptable.

'_I suppose I could try to hide Harry or remove him from Britain. Unfortunately the simulacrum will break down in a few months and I can't make a new one so soon. That means all the monitoring charms will snap back to Harry.'_

No, that wasn't a solution. Dumbledore would twist it into an abduction case and use his international contacts to track him down. Since Abraxas couldn't use the help of the blood purist families it was likely he would succeed. While his contacts were manifold and his fortune large it wouldn't suffice. He had no legal right to Harry's custody and his efforts of getting Sirius out of jail weren't any more likely to succeed than in the years before. Not to mention that it was doubtful how sane Sirius would be after ten years in Azkaban.

That meant Harry would have to return to Hogwarts this September. Which meant Dumbledore would surely try to read his mind. Unfortunately it was impossible for Harry to learn occlumency to a sufficient degree in the available months. He would have to seal Harry's memories away and give him those of the simulacrum. At least his friends in Hufflepuff seemed to do him a world of good.

'_Time; I need more time.'_

Cassiopeia would die soon. She was practically abusing the potions to keep her mind clear and most likely wouldn't see the next Christmas. Abraxas hated the fact that he couldn't do anything about it, just like with Pollux and Arcturus. If he had been able to find another moonsilver cauldron he could have brewed the same potion that had extended his own life, but his search had been in vain. The one alchemist he had been able to contact demanded such a high price that it would bankrupt both House Malfoy and House Black. He had been forced to let his friends and allies die.

Lucius was working on Fudge, slowly turning him away from Dumbledore. In about a year they should have enough influence over the minister to convince him of their view of things. Unfortunately he couldn't exactly tell his son what he was working towards; and he didn't have the time to do it himself. It slowed the process considerably. Fudge was an idiot, but idiots could be useful nonetheless. The process of shuffling known Dumbledore supporters to less important positions was already beginning. It would make Voldemort's eventual takeover even easier, but Abraxas needed the influence now.

Abraxas came to a decision. Harry would have to endure another year. In the next summer Abraxas would unseal his memories and make his final move, unleashing all the evidence at once. It was cutting it close to the end of his time left in this world, but if everything went well he would get legal custody of Harry. That would enable him to remove all the tracking spells on Harry permanently. Then he would send Draco, Aquila and Harry out of the country. One of the members of the African Confederation should do nicely. Dumbledore and Voldemort would remain a problem, but it would give them time outside of the influence of both warring wizards. Time enough for the children to grow up. He didn't like abandoning Britain or leaving his son and daughter-in-law behind, but the future of his family came first.

All he could do for now was teaching Harry the most important things he had to know and making sure he had a good summer. On second thought, it would probably be better to tell him personal things about his family and leave the other things for another time. Draco knew the Black family secrets that were Harry's birthright as well and he could teach him later. It wasn't as if Harry would be able to make use of them after he sealed his memories. No, the important thing was telling him about his family as long as there were people who remembered them personally. The scheduling problems would be immense, but somehow he would manage. It would be Cassie's last summer; Aquila would want to spend as much time with her as possible. Unfortunately she couldn't protect her thoughts to a sufficient degree, meaning she couldn't be allowed to learn about Harry. Draco's occlumency was good enough that he could risk letting him visit occasionally, though.

* * *

><p>Harry was having the best summer of his life. He didn't have to do any chores and Aunt Cassie was very nice. Her house was very orderly and neat, but it wasn't the sterile, clinical orderliness he knew from the Dursleys. It was more that everything had its proper, natural place in the cottage. As long as he put things down in roughly the same spot he had taken them from Cassie didn't mind if he explored. In fact, she encouraged his curiosity. The house was a treasure trove of interesting magical things, even if he found Aunt Cassie's trophy room creepy.<p>

Mr. Malfoy visited every few days, bringing news and teaching Harry. The man was a great teacher, stern and patient at the same time. He learned more about the wizarding world and his family than he had in the entire last year at Hogwarts. From time to time he would take him out to the muggle world under glamour charms. A day on the beach here, a visit to an amusement park there and Harry was happier than he had ever been. The man was the grandfather Harry had never had. Cassie never accompanied them though; she said she wasn't comfortable anymore with leaving the cottage. Additionally other relatives who couldn't be allowed to know about Harry visited during his excursions. The only thing that he didn't like was that he couldn't use magic. Mr. Malfoy said that it would interfere with the simulacrum.

Currently Harry and his great-aunt were examining a photo album showing several relatives he never knew about. Uncles, aunts, cousins galore and of course his grandparents and his father.

"This was your father's eighth birthday. The woman in the corner there is my cousin Callidora, her husband Harfang Longbottom and their two children. It was a great party, but James had only eyes for the racing broom Charlus had bought him. I think your grandparents indulged your father more than they should have done, but he was their only child. He was a right rascal." the old woman explained.

"What about my mother?"

Cassie sighed. "I never properly met her, unfortunately. By all accounts she was a brilliant witch. I must admit I and James didn't get along well when he grew older. He firmly believed in Dumbledore's talk of the Light, and after that philosophy I'm as Dark as one can get. After your grandparents died when he was still in school he cut all contact with me and the other Blacks. He married your mother right out of school and joined the fight against the Dark Lord on Dumbledore's side. I never saw him again until he died."

"Why do you hate Professor Dumbledore?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. "You always speak his name with loathing."

"You mean besides the fact that he is responsible for leaving you with those horrible muggles? That he bleats his mantra about not wanting power, but he is the single most influential wizard in our society? That he practically made Hogwarts his personal fiefdom?"

Harry didn't know what to say. He had still trouble wrapping his mind around the concept that Professor Dumbledore had deliberately kept all other people from adopting him and forced him to stay with the Dursleys. That he had played him during the entire year was hard to believe, but he had to admit there were far too many suspicious things.

Suddenly Cassie let out a low chuckle. "You're right, Harry. It isn't the only thing I hold against him. Have you ever heard of Gellert Grindelwald?"

The bespectacled boy could only shake his head.

"I thought so. He's only the most terrible Dark Lord that Europe saw this century. That useless ghost is still not teaching the important things."

"Worse than You-know-who?" Harry asked.

"Much worse. For all the terrible things You-know-who did he was mostly limited to Britain. Grindelwald tried to conquer all of Europe and he had a shot at victory." Cassie explained.

"But what has that to do with Professor Dumbledore?"

Cassie's voice grew icy. "For years we fought against him and his army. Britain as a country stayed mostly out of it, but the Old Families fought. We fought and bled and died. Then, when we finally had shattered his armies and driven him into a corner the oh so great Albus Dumbledore deigned to sweep down from his precious school and fight against an already defeated man. To this day the ignorant public hails him as the hero who defeated Grindelwald and won the war, the ones who made the real sacrifices forgotten. How many could have been saved if the old fool had gotten off his bony arse earlier? He only came when his contribution no longer made a difference. For that I hate him."

"Did you fight in the war, Aunt Cassie?"

The woman nodded. "I did. I lost friends and family. I saw the only man I ever loved die. Sometimes I wish Grindelwald had succeeded in taking Dumbledore down. It would certainly have solved many of our problems."

She continued to tell him about the background of the war, the involved factions and philosophies. Grindelwald's 'The Greater Good' was a terrifying concept. It could justify any atrocity. One thing he found strange was why everyone tried to fight against Grindelwald. From what he knew the man had been a wizard supremacist. He had noticed in the past year that almost all wizards seemed to regard muggles as lesser people. Why had they fought against him if he held the same views? When he asked his question Cassie chuckled again.

"Harry, Dumbledore and his ilk want you to think in terms of black and white. The truth is that there are only countless shades of grey. It is true, Grindelwald believed in the superiority of wizards. The overwhelming majority of wizards does the same in one way or another. That doesn't mean we wanted to be ruled by him." Then Cassie began with an even more detailed explanation.

Harry had trouble following her. He had learned a bit about politics and philosophy in primary school, but it was completely insufficient.

Cassie noticed after a few minutes that he wasn't really listening anymore. "Harry, say something if you don't understand. We don't have the time to waste."

"Sorry, Aunt Cassie."

"It's alright. You simply lack the basics. Normally your family would have taught you these things, but I don't think we have enough time. I can give you only one advice. Stick to your family and your friends. Protect them. Family is the most precious thing in the world."

Harry nodded. That seemed to be very sensible advice.

* * *

><p>Narcissa Malfoy proudly watched her children flawlessly complete the last steps of the formal dance and bow to their partners. The midsummer ball at the Ministry was one of the foremost social occasions of the year. In contrast to most other balls that catered to the adult population the presence of children was encouraged. It was the second time for Draco and the first for Aquila to participate, eleven being the minimum required age. Both were behaving according to their station.<p>

Aquila was acting quite charmingly and did the House of Malfoy proud. In a couple of years she would turn every boy's head.

Draco had danced with most of the eligible young ladies of his age once and two times each with Daphne Greengrass and Morag MacDougal; a clear show of preference. Now that the children were allowed to mingle freely the three were standing together and conversing. Narcissa was quite happy with his choice of friends. Both girls were of the Old Families, even if they belonged to the minor branches.

"Your son is quite the lady's man, Narcissa. He cuts a fine figure. My granddaughter speaks very highly of him." the dowager Lady Eleanor Greengrass remarked. "Maybe we will see a union between House Malfoy and Greengrass in a few years, eh?"

Narcissa inclined her head in agreement. "We can always hope. Lord Malfoy has refused for Draco to be betrothed, though. "

"A shame, really. I had high hopes that Lord Malfoy would consent to a match with my daughter. They make such a nice pair." Priscilla MacDougal said. "Morag greatly enjoys his company. Did you know…"

After a few moments Narcissa tuned Priscilla mostly out. The woman was an unbelievable chatterbox; the polar opposite of her daughter. Instead she observed Draco who was now conversing civilly with Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson. Her husband might have wanted a marriage alliance with House Parkinson, but she could see that it would never work between Draco and Pansy. It was clear that her son preferred the company of intelligent and educated females. The second criterion might be fulfilled if you didn't look too closely, but the first one…

While arranged marriages normally didn't rely on love it was always preferable that at least some amount of attraction was there. Or if the prospective groom could stand the bride's presence. Dislike could easily lead to hate. From there it wasn't far to all sorts of… tragic mishaps. Which would be very counterproductive to the original intent behind the marriage. Besides, Narcissa would prefer a daughter-in-law who could hold an intelligent conversation.

A change in the background music saved her from having to listen to Mrs. MacDougal any longer. It was time for the opening dance of the adults. She excused herself and went in search of her husband. It didn't take her long to find him deep in conversation with Lord Nott and Lord Greengrass.

"Lucius dear, I'm sorry to interrupt, but the opening dance will start soon."

"It is time already? Excuse me, my lords. My lovely wife requires my presence." he said before taking her hand. The other two men chuckled good-naturedly.

"How are Draco and Aquila holding up? I lost track of them a while back." he asked when they took position on the dance floor.

"Both did very well." She nodded towards the side of the large room where Draco and Aquila had joined Abraxas. "Aquila made a flawless debut. Draco seems to have taken a liking to Morag MacDougal and Daphne Greengrass. It's probably too early to say if anything more will develop out of it."

The beginning of the dance made it impossible for Lucius to answer, but the smirk on his face showed his approval. Both connections would be acceptable. Soon they were swept up in the dance and Narcissa just enjoyed the evening. The political and social games between the highest echelons of their society were her passion and this evening was one of the most important of the year. Now that she knew that Aquila could handle herself her earlier tension had disappeared. She hadn't really expected anything else from her daughter, but the first impression was very important. Any faux pas would be talked about for months.

Several hours later in the quiet of her private study Narcissa jotted down every development and observation of the evening. Who talked with whom in what manner about which subjects; everything was important.

'_Amelia Bones didn't bring her niece. The young Longbottom wasn't at the ball this time either. From what Draco told me he is rather clumsy and lacks self-confidence. The rumors about him being a squib are unsubstantiated, though. Probably a wise decision on old Augusta's part.'_

It was always better to delay introduction into society for a few years than suffering an embarrassment. The other most interesting fact was the number of Flints present. They were an upstart family, but they had many members and had managed to stay a coherent unit over four generations. Some members were in relatively important positions in the Ministry, others accumulated wealth in trade. They had supported Voldemort, but through a stroke of luck only very few of them had died or were convicted. All in all it looked like they would be successful in forming a new House if they could keep it up.

Finally Narcissa put the quill down and rubbed her tired eyes. She was handling most of House Malfoy's social commitments while her husband covered the Ministry and her father-in-law the business side of things as well as the rest of the politics. In the last months Abraxas had given them more and more authority. Before that he had always held tightly to every scrap of power, not considering his period of temporary frailty about seven or six years ago. It was obvious that he was preparing for the transition of power, this time for good.

Sometimes Narcissa couldn't help but feel sidelined. After his recovery Abraxas had taken back control of House Malfoy as well as her children's education and brooked no interference. He had obviously his own ideas about proper upbringing. She couldn't really fault most of them, but she was very uncomfortable with how much contact with the muggle world he allowed. Still, it made sense considering how much money they made this way. The power and influence of a family was only partly based in blood; wealth was even more important. To be at the top of society you needed both the pedigree and the money to back it up.

'_I wonder where he disappears to so often. Sometimes he even takes Draco with him. There is so much I don't know.'_

It hurt her that she had been excluded from many of the meetings of her father-in-law, her grandfather Pollux Black, Arcturus and Aunt Cassie. The last one especially; during her childhood Cassie had been her favorite aunt. It was clear they didn't trust her and Lucius, but she couldn't imagine why. Now that Arcturus and Pollux were dead there were no more free male Blacks. The business interests had been entrusted to different stewards until a new Lord Black could take over. If she was reading things right the lordship would fall to her son after her cousin Sirius' death. They had probably imparted all the family secrets to Draco, or at least the place where he could find them later.

'_No, that isn't right. I know why they don't tell me things.'_

It was her husband they didn't trust and they knew she couldn't keep secrets from him if she thought he needed to know. She loved him too much for that. That didn't mean she was blind to Lucius' faults. He wasn't stupid, but his arrogance caused him to underestimate other people. Too rash and too overconfident of his own abilities as a wizard and schemer, it was only a matter of time until he made some critical mistake. Not that she was without fault. Despite her political acumen she never managed to completely hide her disdain of her social inferiors.

Abraxas clearly felt that Lucius was a disappointment, but taking Draco's age in account there was no other heir available. When she disrobed to join her husband in bed she thought about the secretive behavior of all family members in the last few months. Even Aquila seemed to hide things. Something was clearly up.

* * *

><p>Draco laughed when he flew a corkscrew around Harry and opened the range between them. It was a very rare occurrence that he managed to outfly the young Potter. Not that his success lasted long; Harry was already regaining lost ground. Flying was a passion they shared, but Harry had noticeably more talent than Draco. Not that he minded. Draco enjoyed flying for its own sake; it wasn't a competition. After another half-hour of flying they finally had enough and landed on the meadow at the side of the cottage. It was then that Draco noticed Harry's mood had shifted. He seemed pensive and somewhat sad.<p>

"Hey Harry, is something the matter?"

Harry shook his head. "It's just… it's very hard to believe that I will forget all this soon."

"Grandfather talked with you about that already?" Draco asked.

"Yeah. He and Aunt Cassie explained to me that they couldn't get me away from Professor Dumbledore until next summer. It's important that he doesn't learn that I wasn't with the Dursleys. Did you know that he can read thoughts?"

Draco nodded. "I do. Dumbledore tried it on me several times during the last year. I'm pretty good at occlumency; much better than anyone my age has ever been."

Harry sighed. "How did you manage it? I mean, you did know about me, but you never gave a hint."

The blond boy shrugged. "It was hard. I knew who you were the moment you entered Madame Malkins, but I couldn't risk telling you anything. I tried getting as close to you as I could without being suspicious, but Dumbledore hit me with a compulsion spell to stay away anyway."

"I still find it hard to believe that Professor Dumbledore would do such things." Harry said, shaking his head.

"Well, that begs the question why do you trust Dumbledore that much? How often did you talk with him? What did he do to earn your respect?"

Harry frowned. "Now that you mention it, I don't know. Everyone always tells me how great a wizard he is. I only talked with him during the holidays and when I was in the infirmary. Oh, and he gave me the cloak as a Christmas present."

"Well, the thing is yours by right. I wonder why he had it in the first place. But if you think about it, is that the action of a responsible adult? Giving a child the means to move through the castle undetected? I mean, he already knows you use it to break the rules. The sensible thing would have been telling you about it and keeping it safe, not sending it to you anonymously."

Harry snorted. "You always sound so grown-up, Draco."

Draco shrugged. It was true. He couldn't really hide that he was far more mature than his peers. Luckily mature behavior was expected from the heir of a pureblood house, or wizarding children in general. The muggle ideas of a carefree childhood hadn't really penetrated much of magical society. "I'm sorry we can't do more, Harry. I promise I will look out for you as much as I can."

"Thank you. You are a true friend."

In Draco's opinion Harry had been surprisingly understanding when it was revealed that Draco had known about him since they met for the first time. Or when they explained what they knew of Dumbledore's machinations. He had expected some tantrum at some point, Harry was a child, after all, but he had calmly accepted everything. His best guess was that Harry was so glad that he had family that nothing else mattered.

'_He is so trusting and naïve. Surprising really, considering his upbringing. He will never make a good politician.'_

Suddenly Harry continued to speak. "Aunt Cassie doesn't have long to live, does she?"

Draco's eyes grew a bit misty. He liked Aunt Cassie. "No. I don't expect we will see her again after this summer. She practically abuses her potions to stay coherent the entire time, but even without that I doubt she would have lived more than one or two more years."

"She shouldn't do that. Not for me."

Draco gripped Harry's shoulder. "Never say or think you aren't worth it. That isn't for you to decide."

Sometimes Draco found Harry's mentality difficult to deal with. As a human, wizard and most importantly heir to an Old Family there were things that were his right, but the boy didn't seem to see it that way. Harry was selfless, but not in a good manner. He just didn't value his own life and interests enough; the beginnings of his saving-people-syndrome were clearly recognizable.

'_Damn Dumbledore for creating a martyr. At least we were able to counteract it early.'_

His grandfather had spoken at length with Harry about his experiences, especially the death of Quirrel. Originally Harry had repressed the memories, but now he seemed to be at peace with what had happened. It would take a great deal of work to undo all the damage done to Harry's psyche over the years. For a moment he wondered if he should activate some of the hidden spells his other self had presumably cast on Harry.

'_No, the time isn't right. We aren't out of the woods yet. Better to keep it hidden for now if things go south. I don't know if it would interfere with the simulacrum anyway.'_

The simulacrum was a very interesting and practically forgotten piece of magic. It looked like Harry, acted like Harry, thought like Harry and held Harry's magic, complete with all spells cast on him. The original intent had been to swap it with an enemy without anyone else noticing, but it had fallen out of use due to its limitations. Despite all the magic it held it couldn't cast spells and every spell cast at it affected the original, too. Additionally it lasted for little more than three months even under optimal conditions and you couldn't create a new one of the same person for years.

Soon it was time for him to leave. This was the last visit he could manage this summer. In three days his grandfather would send Harry back to Privet Drive. Dobby had faithfully brought them all letters and took the answers back, the arrangement with the Finch-Fletchleys to pick Harry up in mid-August among them. The little elf had really excelled himself. He stayed at Privet Drive almost permanently to watch out for problems and would soon need time to recover. House elves were household servants. You could use them for other means like they did now, but it harmed them in the long run both mentally and physically. Of all their elves only Dobby had been able to do it in the first place. His worship of the 'Great Harry Potter' had allowed him some astounding bits of mental flexibility that bordered on insanity (for a house elf).

After giving his great-aunt a parting kiss on the cheek he turned towards his cousin. "Goodbye Harry. I'll see you again at Hogwarts even if you won't remember it for a while."

Harry only nodded. If Draco wasn't mistaken the bespectacled boy's eyes were growing moist. Not wanting to delay any longer he approached his waiting grandfather. "Grandfather, I'm ready."

An apparition later he was back at Malfoy Manor. When he returned to his room a surprise awaited him.

"Where were you?" his sister Aquila asked, sitting on his bed. "You always disappear."

"I'm sorry, sister. I can't tell you."

Aquila stamped her foot. "Why won't you tell me? No one tells me anything."

Draco sighed. It didn't look like Aquila was ready to let it go. "Important family secrets." He held up his hands in defense. "I know you won't tell anybody. Unfortunately there are people who can take the knowledge right from your mind. I know enough occlumency to prevent that."

Aquila chewed on her lip for a moment. "Can you teach me?"

"I can try. It isn't easy, you know."

"Please Draco." she asked, making a cute face.

Draco sighed again. It was hard to refuse his sister anything. That started his first attempt at teaching her. When they finished an hour later there had been no progress, not that Draco had expected any. Like all pureblood children from important families Aquila had some basic training in occlumency, but nothing more. It would alert her to blatant attempts at mind-reading. Against a legilimens as skillful as Dumbledore it wouldn't even be a hindrance. The minds of children were usually too chaotic and immature to achieve the necessary discipline. Most people who studied the art only achieved a more or less useful proficiency long after they became adults, with their emotional teenage years safely behind them. Draco himself was an exception to the rule. Still, occlumency in all its different forms was widespread enough to make the use of veritaserum in trials ineffective and inadmissible as evidence.

Finally satisfied Aquila left the room, giving Draco some much appreciated rest. He used the time to rethink his next steps. The success of his grandfather in getting Harry out of Privet Drive was surprising to say the least. It hadn't been in his original plans, but it was a welcome development. If his grandfather managed to get them out of the country it would make things so much easier. Sure, Dumbledore would try to get Harry back, but he wouldn't be able to go against one of the kingdoms of the African Confederation as long as they were there legally in the first place. Britain and Europe in general were far too unimportant to go against them. Any attempt of extradition would be delayed for years, especially if his grandfather found them a powerful guardian. Safe from Dumbledore and Voldemort Draco could work on Harry in earnest and break the blocks on his magic, mental and otherwise. It might be hard for the rest of Britain until they got good enough to return, but Draco's primary objective was ensuring his family's survival and steering Harry in the right direction. Everything else was secondary.

His thoughts focused on the approaching school year. He still hadn't found many memories of the other Draco's second year besides some hints that the defense teacher was a dangerous fraud. By all indications it should be a quiet year.

* * *

><p>Lucius Malfoy bent down to examine a shelf full of skulls. Sometimes he wondered if the owners of the shop kept them just to create the proper atmosphere. He righted himself when he heard someone approach. A stooped man had appeared behind the counter.<p>

"Ah, Mr. Borgin. I wondered when you would appear."

The man with the greasy hair bowed slightly. "Mr. Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you again. I trust you have the objects we agreed upon?"

"Certainly." the blond man answered and retrieved a charmed bag previously hidden under his robes. "If you have what I require, of course."

The shop owner put two vials on the table. "I always keep my bargains, Mr. Malfoy." He opened the bag and began sorting through the contents. "Well, well, some of these things are quite valuable. Might I ask what motivated you to sell these?"

Lucius lip curled. "Surely you have heard that the Ministry is conducting more raids. I have not been visited yet, of course. The Malfoy name still commands a certain respect, but the Ministry grows ever more meddlesome. Some of these items might embarrass me if they should come calling."

"Of course, I understand, sir." Borgin replied, counting a stack of galleons on the desk. "Here is the monetary part of your compensation."

After securing the two vials and the galleons in a hidden pouch he gave the oily man a nod. "Good day to you, Mr. Borgin. As always it has been a pleasure doing business with you."

When Lucius left the shop a smirk appeared on his features. Finally he had everything he needed. It had been very difficult to acquire the two substances he now carried in the hidden pouch. Very difficult and very costly. He hadn't been able to use most sources without his father getting wind of it; an event to be avoided at all costs. It had forced him to part with more items from his personal stash than he was comfortable with. On the other hand, it was far safer to rid oneself of the more incriminating objects and substances in time. There was always the possibility of an investigation even if everything went according to plan. There was only one more object to dispose of, but he had something special planned.

He left Knockturn Alley behind and looked around. A crowd was already gathering in front of Flourish and Blotts, but they wouldn't open for another quarter hour. It seemed he was a bit early. Excellent. His grin widened and turned malicious when he spotted a family of redheads approaching. All was going according to plan.

* * *

><p>Ginny watched her mother breathlessly patting her hair when they came to a stop at the edge of the crowd in front of the bookshop. "Good, we made it in time. We'll be able to see him in a minute."<p>

"Really, mum."

"One could think…"

"…that you are in love…"

"…with Gilderoy Lockhart."

Her mother blushed slightly. "Nonsense. I just want to meet the man. His books are simply wonderful. Today is a once-in-lifetime opportunity."

Ginny rolled her eyes, careful to stay out of her mother's field of vision. Lockhart could do no fault in her mother's eyes. It was made worse by the fact that many of his books were on the list for Hogwarts. In contrast to her family Ginny knew that he would be the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, thanks to her correspondence with Aquila. The letters had arrived more sparsely over the summer, but they still stayed in contact.

Her mother had given Ron an earful when it became clear that he wasn't a friend of Harry Potter as he had claimed. Percy had spent most of the summer in his room, with owls coming and going the entire time. The twins were fun, but even they had been more secretive than usual. Her entire summer had been filled with anticipation. Finally she too could go to Hogwarts.

The visit to Diagon Alley was the high point of the summer. Unfortunately she wouldn't get a new wand; the cost of books and other school-related things made it prohibitive. Ginny would have to use her great-grandmother's wand. Not that she minded; it worked well enough for her and was in good shape. She would take care to keep it that way. A wand was a witch's most important tool, after all.

The voice of her father caused her to look up. He was still badgering Mr. and Mrs. Thomas about things. They were muggles, making them a target for her father curiosity. Ron's friend Dean had visited for a few days over the summer. They had made an agreement to meet up today. It seemed the adults felt uncomfortable in the company of wizards.

'_How can dad not know about muggle money? It isn't that difficult.' _Sometimes she wondered about her father. He worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office for years, but his understanding of all things muggle was sadly lacking.

When she looked over the crowd she noticed that there were many more middle-aged women than on her visit last year. It seemed Lockhart had a lot of fans in that age-group as well as among the younger witches. Ginny didn't belong to them. Lockhart had nothing on Harry Potter.

Finally the bookshop opened and the crowd slowly grew smaller as more and more people entered. Gilderoy Lockhart came slowly into view, seated at a table surrounded by large pictures of his own face, all winking and flashing dazzlingly white teeth at the crowd. The real Lockhart was wearing robes of forget-me-not blue that exactly matched his eyes; his pointed wizard's hat was set at a jaunty angle on his wavy hair.

A short, irritable-looking man was dancing around taking photographs with a large black camera that emitted puffs of purple smoke with every blinding flash. Her brother Ron let out a cry of pain when the man thoughtlessly trampled on his foot. Lockhart apparently heard him, looked up and for a moment Ginny could feel his gaze before it returned to the half-signed book before him.

It did take an eternity before it was finally their turn. Her mother almost swooned when Lockhart kissed her hand after he had signed the autobiography her mother had bought. The man surely knew how to please his fans. After that it was back to browsing the bookstore. Due to their limited budget they often had to buy used books. All of them went into her new cauldron along with a complete set of Lockhart's books that were required for Hogwarts.

A cold, cultured voice caught her attention. "Well, well, well. If it isn't Arthur Weasley."

Looking up from the books, Ginny saw Mr. Malfoy standing there. Her father nodded coldly. "Lucius."

"You're busy at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids… I hope you're paid for overtime?" Suddenly he approached her and pulled one of the oldest books from her cauldron. "It appears not. A shame really. What's the use of becoming a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay well for it?"

Her father flushed a deep red. "Obviously you and I have very different ideas what disgraces a wizard, Malfoy."

'_Why doesn't dad back down? Mr. Malfoy is clearly trying to provoke him.'_ It would be very satisfying to see her father wipe the infuriating smirk from Mr. Malfoy's face, but there would be repercussions. A brawl wouldn't do her father's position in the Ministry any good, especially if he threw the first punch. Ginny had read enough in the books Aquila had sent her that she could see were this was going.

"Evidently." The pale grey eyes of Mr. Malfoy strayed to Mr. and Mrs. Thomas who had watched the confrontation apprehensively. "The company you keep, Weasley… I always thought your family could sink no lower."

Suddenly her father threw himself at Mr. Malfoy, the cauldron thudding to the floor when Ginny was jostled. Dozens of heavy spell books came raining down when Mr. Malfoy was knocked backwards into a bookshelf.

Fred or George shouted "Get him, dad." her mum cried "No, Arthur, no!" and the crowd tried to back off, an impossibility in the crowded book shop. An assistant tried to break up the brawl and got only an elbow to his face for all his efforts. The fight was no longer limited to her father and Mr. Malfoy as more and more people were included. It was almost a repeat from last year, only infinitely worse. Ginny was pushed in different directions when the far more massive adults moved around, heedless of their surroundings.

A falling book hit Ginny right on the head and the world began spinning. An especially strong shove sent her stumbling through a small gap between two lopsided shelves. She felt herself collide with someone who let out an 'oof' before they went down. When she regained her bearings a few seconds later she found herself lying on top of a very familiar boy.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked, his face only a few centimeters from her own.

"I think so." Ginny answered.

"Good."

They lapsed into silence for a moment. From what Ginny could see they were in a small secluded corner of the bookshop between several shelves. Even the noise from the brawl seemed muted here.

Before she could say anything else a female voice made itself know. A look to the side identified the speaker as a smirking Aquila Malfoy. "You know, none of you seem to be in a hurry to leave your… rather peculiar position. In fact, you seem to be rather comfortable. Draco, have you gotten yourself a girlfriend without me knowing?"

The youngest Weasley needed a moment to process that. She was still lying on top of Draco. If you looked at that from a certain perspective... Ginny felt herself going scarlet. Draco likewise sported an intense blush. Hurriedly she tried to stand up, but her legs went out from under her when a book on the ground slipped away. She barely managed to break her fall, but the downward momentum was too strong.

In the next moment Ginny's lips made contact with Draco's.

It wasn't a painful smack; she had managed to slow down enough. There wasn't any earth-shattering boom, no spontaneously forming soul-bond with an accompanying lightshow. It was only a gentle touch between two pairs of soft lips. Draco's eyes widened comically and his blush intensified. Ginny felt herself reacting in the same way. A second later she broke the contact and stood up, this time without any accidents. She just couldn't look at Draco.

Aquila laughed uproariously at the sight until tears were spilling from her eyes. "Oh Merlin, this is gold. Thank you. First class blackmail material, delivered free of charge. Did you already set a date for the wedding?" she gasped out between peals of laughter.

"Oh, shut up."

From the corner of her eye she could see that Draco was slowly getting his blush under control and started to glare at his sister. Finally Aquila stopped laughing and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Sorry, Ginny. It was just too funny. Our mother would have a heart attack if she ever hears of this. How have you been?"

Ginny still hadn't recovered and only managed a "Fine."

The blond girl started to speak again, but Draco interrupted them. "I don't think we have time for a conversation. It seems the day's amusement is already winding down."

Aquila's face became serious. "Sorry about that. We saw what our father did. I don't think he knows we are here; we went ahead of mother and grandfather to browse a bit."

Ginny sighed. "It isn't your fault. My dad shouldn't have lost his self-control. I just wish we could meet without our families making a spectacle."

"That would be a welcome change. We haven't much time now, but come seek me out on the Hogwarts Express. It should be possible to find a compartment where we can talk in private." Aquila said.

"Okay." Ginny answered. She still was far too embarrassed to talk much. Why had that to happen?

It did take another few minutes, but finally the brawl was broken up and the crowd calmed down. Aquila and Draco left first. Ginny waited a minute before she followed them. It didn't take her long to find her family. She even managed to pick up her cauldron on the way, still filled with the purchased books. Even the one Mr. Malfoy had taken was back. Her father sported a cut lip and a black eye, but seemed otherwise fine.

"You should have ignored him, Arthur." Molly admonished.

"No way." Ron said. "Didn't you hear how he insulted us?"

When her mother spotted Ginny she fussed a moment over her. "There you are, Ginny. Where do you always disappear to?"

"Sorry, mum. There were just too many people running around, I got swept away."

The rest of the day was far less exciting. They went to purchase the school supplies they still lacked. Two times Ginny saw the Malfoy family from afar, but neither Aquila nor Draco showed any reaction. It was probably better that way.

Much later back in her room in the Burrow Ginny sat down in front of her mirror. She touched her lips with her fingertips.

'_That wasn't how I imagined my first kiss would go.'_

Somehow she had always thought that Harry Potter would be the boy she gave her first kiss to in an incredibly romantic fashion. Instead that singular event had been an accident. Worse, it had been her fault. Ginny blushed again. She had been far too shocked at the time, but the kiss had actually felt nice. Perhaps it wasn't that great a loss.

When she finally found the time to sort through the purchased books she discovered an empty diary. _'I don't remember buying that.'_ Shrugging, she threw it on her pile of books. It couldn't hurt to have something she could write her thoughts in.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong> Thanks for the reviews.

There will be a Abraxas/Cassie/Harry scene in the next chapter before he goes back to the Dursleys.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 6**

Harry stared at the thing in the middle of the village square with his mouth hanging open. "They… They build a statue?"

The brown-haired man at his side that was in truth Abraxas Malfoy nodded. "I'm afraid so, Harry. It isn't that bad as statues go."

The boy still stared at the stone monument that had replaced the war memorial when they got closer to it. Instead of an obelisk covered in names there was a statue of three people: a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long hair and a kind, pretty face, and a baby boy sitting in his mother's arms. Thankfully the artist had refrained from adding Harry's famous scar. After he had looked his fill the pair continued towards the church, one of the two original goals of their visit to Godric's Hollow.

Draco had said goodbye yesterday; on the evening of the day after tomorrow Harry would return to the Dursleys. Originally he had planned to spend the day with Aunt Cassie and Uncle Abraxas (as he had come to call the old man) at the cottage, but there had been a change of plans. It had come as a complete surprise when Uncle Abraxas had asked him if he wanted to visit his parents' graves.

Harry had never even thought about that. At some level he had been aware of the fact that his parents had to be buried _somewhere_, but visiting their graves had never entered his mind. He had been greatly embarrassed when Abraxas pointed out to him that it was only another symptom of his habit not to ask questions and not to think about things too deeply.

There were quite a few people on the streets, but thanks to the glamour Abraxas had applied Harry was practically unrecognizable. No one spared them more than a passing glance when they entered the graveyard behind the church through a kissing gate. Row upon row of tombstones protruded from the ground.

"I don't know exactly where the grave is located; we will have to search." Uncle Abraxas said.

Harry simply nodded and began scrutinizing the tombstones. He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the words _Kendra Dumbledore and her daughter Ariana_.

"Dumbledore? Does the Headmaster live here?" Harry asked when they moved on.

Abraxas shook his head. "Not anymore, no. His family lived here once, but he sold the cottage a long time ago and now stays at Hogwarts permanently. There are quite a few wizarding families still living in this village. Not as many as before the war, but still a relatively large number. The unusual thing is that they live mostly spread out through the village. It's far more common for a village to have a magical neighborhood that is inaccessible to the muggles and that the wizards rarely leave. Most wizards and witches have barely any contact with muggles despite living almost door-to-door with them."

There were quite a lot of surnames he recognized from Hogwarts written on the gravestones, but judging from the dates they had either died out or moved away from Godric's Hollow. In the end they found the headstone of his parents only two rows behind Kendra's and Ariana's. It was made of white marble and a few flowers had been planted. Their names along with their dates of birth and death were written on it. Both his parents had been born early in 1960. They had died in the year 1981 on the 31th October.

"They were both barely out of Hogwarts." Harry whispered.

Then he noticed an additional line under their names: The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death.

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"It is just one of these sayings people like to put on gravestones to make feel themselves better. I believe it refers to a life after death. It was probably Dumbledore who chose the inscription; it certainly sounds like him. He occasionally talks about death as 'the next great adventure'."

"Is there such a thing?"

Abraxas shrugged. "Who can say? There are certain ways to call back the shades of the dead, but as the name says they are shades, not a living person. None of them can be compelled to talk about the other side anyway. I would counsel against trying such a thing. That way lays only disappointment and grief. It is better to let the dead rest."

Harry nodded and put down the flowers they had bought earlier. The empty words on the grave could not disguise the fact that his parents were gone forever. He had seen them in the Mirror of Erised, but it had only been an image; a dream. They would never be able to praise him when he did something right, chide him when he did something wrong or hold him when he was sad. He couldn't share his successes and worries with them. It was here that Harry truly realized that his parents were gone forever and would never come back. Tears began to spill from his eyes before he could stop them. Pressing his lips hard together, he let them fall, looking down at the grass, flowers and earth that hid their remains.

"Let it out, Harry." Uncle Abraxas' voice sounded. The old man stepped closely behind him, putting his hands on Harry's shoulders, supporting him. Even with his parents dead he had still family and people who cared about him.

The boy didn't know how long he stood crying at the grave, but after a time the tears subsided and he felt better. "Mom, Dad, I'm sorry I never visited you before. No one told me where you were buried. I don't think I'll be able to visit again anytime soon. There are so many things going on I don't understand. I wish you were still here."

Harry's voice broke and he lapsed into silence again. Abraxas' grip on his shoulders gently tightened after a few minutes, signaling him that it was time to leave. With one arm still on his shoulder the old man walked him out of the graveyard. Harry didn't really pay attention where they were going until they came to a stop. Looking up, Harry saw the ivy-covered remains of a cottage surrounded by rubble and waist-high grass. Most of it was still standing, but the right side of the top floor had been blown apart.

"Is this…?"

"Yes Harry, this is the place where your parents were hiding until the night they were murdered." Abraxas announced and touched the gate amidst an overgrown hedge.

A sign rose from the ground in front of them. In golden letters it told of his parents' death, him surviving the killing curse and that the house had been left in its ruined state to serve as a monument. All around the neatly lettered words untold scribbles had been added by other witches and wizards who had come to see the place.

"The Ministry converted it into a memorial after things had settled down. I believe you have been reimbursed at the standard rate, which isn't much. If I'm not mistaken the personal effects of your family are in secure storage somewhere in the Ministry until you claim them. Unfortunately we can't enter the house. The structure is unsafe and we would trip wards that keep trespassers away." the old man explained.

They stood a few minutes in silence just looking at the destroyed house. _'If things had gone differently I would have grown up here.' _Then he realized something and shook his head. _'No, that probably wouldn't have happened anyway. Voldemort wouldn't have been defeated and we would have switched our hiding place sooner or later.'_

Breathing deeply, Harry shook himself out of his reverie. "I've seen enough; or is there anything else here?"

"No, that is all. It is time for us to leave anyway if we want to join Cassie for tea." Abraxas said.

Looking carefully around, Abraxas led Harry along a small side path on the outside of the village. As soon as they were out of sight of any possible observers the old man took Harry's hand and apparated them away. Harry stumbled slightly when they appeared back at Dew Cottage. Side-along apparition felt rather uncomfortable, but during the more than two months he had been here he had slowly grown used to it.

"Thank you for taking me there." Harry said to Abraxas when they were seated in Cassie's drawing room half an hour later.

Abraxas smiled at him. "It wasn't any trouble, Harry. You had a right to see it. In fact, someone should have taken you there long ago."

"That shows how much all these people at Hogwarts truly value their friendship to your parents, Harry. Not one of them could spare an afternoon to talk with you about them. They don't have even a shred of decency." Cassiopeia's sharp voice interjected.

As much as he wished to Harry couldn't refute the point. Despite spending one year at Hogwarts none of the teachers had truly talked about James and Lily. Nor had any other friends of his parents send any letters. Without Uncle Abraxas and especially Aunt Cassie he still wouldn't know anything about his family. Granted, Hagrid had given him the photo album, but even he hadn't told him much about his parents. Was it too much to ask that at least one of his parents' so-called friends took a few hours to talk with him?

"You didn't receive any letters from a Remus Lupin, did you? The man knows when you were scheduled to attend Hogwarts." Cassie inquired.

Harry shook his head. Susan, Hannah and Justin and a few others had sent him several letters (which Dobby the house elf delivered faithfully to him), but no one else did. Lupin was the only remaining of the three closest friends of his father. Peter was dead and Sirius in prison, but Lupin was free to contact him if he wanted.

'_And wasn't that a nice surprise? Another thing no one bothered to tell me about before. I didn't even know the right questions to ask to discover that I have an imprisoned godfather and a free sort-of-uncle.'_

"You are thinking of Sirius again, aren't you?" Abraxas asked in a gentle voice.

"Yes. You told me public opinion is that he was the one who betrayed my parents, but there are so many doubts and strange things surrounding him. I'm still not sure what to feel about him." Harry replied helplessly.

"We don't believe him to be guilty, but suspicions are all we have. The possibility of Sirius being a traitor to your parents is remote in my mind; they were far more of a family to him than his own parents and brother. Unfortunately here's nothing you can do about him, Harry. We and the other Blacks vainly tried for years to learn more."

After that the conversation turned to lighter subjects. It was hard to believe that in two days he would forget everything and return to Privet Drive for a night before Justin's parents were scheduled to pick him up. In short, this had been the best summer of his life. For the first time he could remember he had had a proper birthday party, even if only Draco, Aunt Cassie and Uncle Abraxas attended. The only thing he missed was Hedwig, but she had to stay away for security reasons.

The day of his departure came far sooner than he wanted.

Harry hugged Cassiopeia tightly for a last time, not ashamed of the tears he shed. "Goodbye Aunt Cassie. I'll never forget you."

Unshed tears brimmed in Cassie's eyes when she ruffled his hair. "I'm glad I lived long enough to get to know you, Harry. You would have made James, Lily and all your other family proud."

They continued the embrace until Abraxas cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, but time grows short. It will take me several hours to seal your memories properly and replace them with those of the simulacrum."

Reluctantly Harry ended the hug and followed Abraxas to the bedroom he had occupied during his stay. He really didn't like it, but he was resigned to his fate by now and understood the necessity. If Dumbledore was really as bad as Abraxas and Cassie claimed he couldn't be allowed to learn about Harry's real summer. It was made worse by the fact that Dumbledore was an accomplished mind reader. Harry was terrified of losing his memories, but he hadn't been able to come up with an alternative.

"It is better you lie down, Harry. I'll stun you first before I modify your memories." Abraxas commanded. "I'll break the spell next summer when we get you away from the Dursleys permanently. As a failsafe I'll leave instructions for Draco. Otherwise the seal will break in six years at the latest; possibly a bit earlier. Now, are you ready?"

Harry nodded hesitantly. "Thank you for everything, Uncle Abraxas."

"Don't mention it, Harry. Stupefy!"

The last thing he saw was a red light approaching him.

* * *

><p>Harry blinked. He must have fallen asleep. Sitting up, he stretched his sore muscles. The evening sun was shining through the window. Tomorrow he would finally leave Privet Drive. The day couldn't come soon enough. He had his fill of chores and the Durleys' attitude.<p>

'_Well, it could have been worse.'_

Despite its dismal beginning the summer hadn't been too bad. When nothing 'unnatural' happened the Dursleys had relaxed their regime. Luckily both Susan and Hannah sent their letters to Justin who forwarded them with the muggle post. Harry had sent Hedwig to stay with him; if he kept her here she would have stayed in the cage the entire time. After his fat uncle had managed to make a quite profitable business deal with a Mr. Mason without anything going wrong Harry had even be allowed to do his summer assignments for Hogwarts.

A small smirk appeared on Harry's lips. _'I wonder what Uncle Vernon will make of Justin's parents. Justin did say they wanted to take out their new BMW for a ride.'_

* * *

><p>Aquila carefully considered her collection of weapons and hunting equipment.<p>

"I wish I had the space to fit it all." she mumbled.

Her trunk was mostly packed, but she still had the secret compartment to fill. It wasn't overly large; certainly not large enough to fit everything. On the other hand everything stored there would be completely hidden from most detection methods. If other people wanted to get at the contents without her consent they would have to completely dismantle the entire trunk. Technically speaking such a thing was illegal, but as Grandpa had explained it was a family tradition.

After a bit of thought she packed her favorite crossbow along with an assortment of enchanted bolts. With a little bit of luck she would be able to venture into the Forbidden Forest to do a bit of hunting. From what she had heard there lived all sorts of interesting beasties there. Some other necessities joined the weapon. The last piece of equipment she was able to fit were the pair of enchanted goggles Draco had gotten her for her eleventh birthday. She couldn't actually see through them, but they allowed her to perceive the surroundings even in complete darkness. They would come in useful if she made any nightly excursions, either into the forest or deep into the castle's bowels. Any form of lighting could give her away and cause her prey to flee or attack, after all.

"Finally finished. I wonder how Ginny is doing."

* * *

><p>Ginny let out an exasperated sigh. Her trunk was long packed and she was ready to go, but the rest of her family seemed determined to delay everything until the last minute. It was maddening. All of them had been up at dawn, but somehow they still seemed to have a great deal to do. Her mum dashed around in a bad mood looking for spare socks and quills; people kept colliding on the stairs while half-dressed and bits of breakfast in their hands. Dad had nearly broken his neck when he tripped over a stray chicken as he carried her trunk to the car. Even the normally well-organized Percy seemed incapable of being ready in time. Ginny herself had made a conscious effort to prepare everything beforehand.<p>

After what seemed like hours they were finally seated in her dad's car. Ginny and her mum were sitting on the front seat. Her brothers were all quite comfortably situated on the back seat.

"Muggles do know more than we give them credit for, don't they?" Molly remarked. "I mean, you'd never know it was this roomy from the outside, would you?"

The red-haired girl had to suppress a snort. _'No mum, the space expansion charms Dad has used have absolutely nothing to do with it. It's perfectly normal that a muggle car is bigger on the inside than on the outside.'_

By now the car was probably more magical than the average flying broomstick. Heck, it could even fly. George, Fred and Ron had taken it out for a fly during the summer; only for their mum to discover it and give them (and Dad) a fierce tongue-lashing. It was only (barely) legal because of a deliberate loophole her dad had written into the law about enchanting muggle artifacts.

'_And then he turns around and blames others for doing the same thing with other laws. Sometimes he can be quite hypocritical.'_

Arthur started up the engine and they trundled out of the yard, Ginny turning back for a last look at the house. She barely had time to wonder when she'd see it again when they were back. George had forgotten his box of Filibuster fireworks. Five minutes after that, they skidded to a halt in the yard so that Fred could run in for his broomstick. They had almost reached the highway when Ron shrieked that he'd left Scabbers behind. By the time they were really underway they were running very late and tempers were running high.

Dad glanced at his watch and then at Mom. "Molly, do you think we could…"

"No Arthur." her mum replied resolutely, her expression darkening further.

"But no one would see; I installed an invisibility booster. As soon as I get us into the air we could fly above the clouds. We'd be there in ten minutes and no one would be any the wiser." her dad continued in a hopeful voice.

"I said no, Arthur. You won't fly this contraption in broad daylight. If someone discovers us your career would be over."

'_We still could have used the floo or Mom and Dad could have apparated us to the platform, but no, Dad has to show off his pet project.'_ It wasn't as if Ginny begrudged her father his hobbies. What got on her nerves was the unnecessary loss of comfort. On the urging of their Dad her family had taken to travelling to and from King's cross the muggle way instead of using the quick and simple floo. She would have understood if they had done some sightseeing, but no, they traveled directly to the station and then directly back to the Burrow. Well, this time she wouldn't be travelling back with her parents.

They had barely five minutes left when they arrived at King's cross. The traffic was immense and once again Ginny wondered why they didn't simply floo directly to the platform. Or how the muggleborn managed; the location might be a traffic hub, but it was very uncomfortable to reach. It wasn't as if all muggleborn lived in the vicinity.

When Ron jumped on the train it was already moving; they had made it in time. Percy breathed deeply and fixed his prefect badge on his clothing. "I have to go to the prefect meeting. George, Frederic, can you make sure Ginevra gets into a… compartment…?"

Wondering about Percy's speech petering out, she turned around only to see an empty passageway. Her three brothers had already left. After letting out a sigh Ginny turned back to Percy and smiled. "Don't worry; I'll manage."

Percy looked at her skeptically before he shrugged. "If you think so, Ginevra."

After he had left Ginny began exploring the train, dragging her trunk behind her. Most compartments she looked into were occupied by older students. The few with students her age were already full, meaning she had to continue her search.

Suddenly she noticed a familiar blond boy walking towards her. Ginny felt herself blushing; the memory of their kiss was just too embarrassing. As soon as he saw her his eyes lit in recognition. "Hi Ginny. How are you? We missed you on the platform."

"Hello Draco. It took us longer to get here than expected; the traffic was worse than last year." she explained. There was no way she would admit to the true reason; namely her family being so unorganized that it caused endless delays.

"I understand. Aquila asked me to bring you to her. I believe she wanted to keep a seat free for you. Is that agreeable or do you have other plans?"

"That would be great; I haven't been able to find a free compartment until now." Ginny replied.

"The compartments at the front of the train are usually emptier. Here, let me help you with your trunk." Draco said. A flick of his wand along with a muttered incantation caused her trunk to start hovering weightlessly, making it far easier to pull it behind her.

"Thanks Draco."

The blond boy turned around, making his way back to from where he had come. Ginny followed closely behind, stealing glances into the compartments as often as she could. She spotted Ron talking with his Gryffindor friends and the twins joking with Lee Jordan and a few girls.

'_They are probably the chasers from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.'_

Suddenly Draco came to a stop, causing Ginny to almost walk into him. A female redhead had just left the compartment with a boy at her side. The boy had messy black hair and vibrant green eyes. Just then his hair shifted for a moment and a scar became visible.

'_Oh Merlin; this is Harry Potter.' _Ginny did her utmost to avoid a happy squeal, but wasn't able to prevent the blood from rushing to her face. For years she had hoped to meet Harry Potter. Unfortunately now that it had come to pass she didn't know what to say and tried to keep Draco between them.

"Hullo Draco. Good to see you." the boy said, paying no attention to Ginny's reaction.

Draco nodded in response. "Hello Harry, Susan. I hope you had a good summer."

The older girl smiled. "I can't complain. Aunt Amelia was busy as always and I spent most of the time with Hannah. We had a lot of fun."

"Good to hear." Then he took a step to the side, revealing Ginny. "This is Ginny Weasley. She's a friend of my sister, but please keep that to yourself. Our families don't approve and all that stuff. Ginny, the lovely lady before you is Susan Bones. The dashing young man is no other than Harry Potter."

Ginny stuttered a short greeting. Harry nodded in reply. Susan said hello before she rolled her eyes at Draco. "Aren't you a charmer? Really Draco, sometimes you overdo it with the sweet talk."

Draco shrugged. "What can I say? I'm just a natural. Anyway, I'll be around later. For now I have to deliver Ginny to my sister. She won't give me a minute's rest until she gets what she wants."

Susan laughed lightly. "The perils of having a younger sibling. Please say hello to Morag for me. I still have three of the books she loaned me. See you later."

It took Ginny a few seconds to regain her voice after the unexpected encounter with Harry Potter. "Are you friends with Harry?"

"Well, we occasionally hang out, but I wouldn't call us close friends." The blond boy let out a long-suffering sigh. "You wouldn't believe how many people approach me about him. A word of advice: Harry really, really dislikes his fame, being called the Boy-who-lived and showing his scar. None of the story books about him are true. If you want to stay on good terms with him just treat him as a normal person."

Ginny didn't get the opportunity to think about that for Draco stopped walking again and knocked at a compartment door. A moment later he slid the door open and motioned Ginny to follow him.

"Hi Aquila; I found your missing friend."

When Ginny entered she could see four girls, her friend Aquila among them.

"It's about time. What took you so long?" the blond girl asked with a sniff.

Draco bowed and scraped. "Your Ladyship, I'm deeply sorry my services were found lacking. Your humble servant begs your pardon." he said in a mocking voice while the girls giggled at the display. "As an apology I will share all your juicy secrets with the entire train. Oh, I can already hear the awestruck reactions when I show them the pictures of your sixth birthday. Why, I never knew one could do that with sweets."

"Don't you dare, Draco!" Aquila shouted. She continued to glare at the smirking Draco before she sighed. "I guess I deserved that. Thanks for your efforts."

"It wasn't a problem, Aquila. See you later." he replied before he left the compartment with a nod to the other girls.

Aquila turned towards her. "Hello Ginny. Let's get you settled."

A minute later her trunk was safely stashed away and introductions to the other occupants finished. The brown-haired Flora and Hestia Carrow were twins and seemed to know Aquila from their childhood. They seemed a bit hesitant to talk with her at first, but after the Malfoy girl treated Ginny as a friend they soon warmed up. Tamsin Applebee was the name of the last girl. Apparently she had just picked a compartment at random. All of them were from wizarding families.

The remaining train ride seemed to take no time at all. Occasionally other people would poke their heads into the compartment to exchange a few words, Aquila's brother among them. It seemed a lot of people knew Aquila. When the trolley lady came around Aquila bought them a round of everything, but Ginny wisely refrained from the Every Flavor Beans. The faces the other girls made were funny, though.

A wonderful rush was everything she remembered of the boat ride after they disembarked from the train. They didn't have to wait long before they were ushered into the Great Hall to be sorted. Tamsin joined Hufflepuff while the Carrow twins were sorted into Slytherin. Ginny didn't know what to think. They had been nice, but no one in her family ever said anything good about Slytherin House.

Aquila seemed to pick up on that and whispered quietly a few words to her. "Don't worry. Even if we are sorted into different houses we will stay friends."

Then it was the blond girl's turn. The hat barely touched her head before it shouted "SLYTHERIN!".

Ginny could only stare when her best friend gracefully walked to the Slytherin table.

When the hat was placed on her head a small voice began speaking into her ear. "What have we here? Another Weasley? Oh my, you are a feisty one. Not content with your situation in life you try to better yourself in spite what everyone expects of you. Slytherin will fit you well. The house will help you realize your ambitions."

"NO. Anything but Slytherin." Ginny whispered. Her family would never understand.

It seemed to her as if the hat harrumphed. "What is it with you Weasleys and Slytherin? Several of your brothers would have done fine there. While you study a lot of things you have no love of knowledge in and of itself. It is just a means to an end for you. You keep secrets from your family and are friends with people they would consider Dark. While I commend you on your friendship it isn't really a defining trait for you. You aren't a coward, but you prefer to avoid direct confrontations to get what you want. So where shall I put you?" the hat asked.

"I don't want to be in Slytherin."

The hat sighed. "You don't leave me a lot of options, you know. Very well; I hope you find what you seek in GRYFFINDOR!"

Ginny took off the hat and walked over to the Gryffindor table, her heart pounding rapidly. She didn't really pay attention to the applause and congratulations of her brothers. Her mind was still fully occupied with what just happened. The hat had wanted to put her into Slytherin of all things. Was she going dark?

'_No, that can't be right. Even Slytherins can be perfectly nice people.'_

Shoving these thoughts to the side Ginny turned towards her neighbors and started chatting. She would write things down in her new diary and think about it later.

* * *

><p>With a grunt of effort Draco finally managed to wrestle the last mandrake into its new pot. The nasty little plant promptly tried to escape, but Draco simply hit it over the head with his shovel. That dazed it long enough for him to cover it with compost. Sighing in relief he leant back and looked around. Stephen was just finishing his last plant while Kevin had still two to go. The most interesting sight was Morag. The girl had removed all remaining four of the mandrakes that were her responsibility from the too small pots and was now having a staring contest with them. The first one had put up a spectacular fight, leaving the book-loving girl frazzled, sweaty and covered in splotches of earth.<p>

Suddenly Morag removed her wand from her wrist holder and muttered something. A small flame appeared at the tip of her wand. Then she said something to the mandrakes Draco couldn't hear, but his best guess was something like "Get into the new pot or burn. Your choice."

The mandrakes looked at Morag, the flame on the tip of her wand and the new pot. Then their tiny shoulders slumped and they shuffled over to the larger pots, offering no resistance when Morag buried them beneath a layer of compost.

"I don't think Professor Sprout would appreciate you threatening her plants." Kevin remarked casually when they were all allowed to take off their earmuffs.

Morag shrugged. "She was at the other end of the greenhouse and everyone else was busy. It's bad enough I have to get my hands dirty. I will not wrestle with some plants suffering from delusions of grandeur." Then she pulled a book out of her bag and went back to reading.

"What we've got next?" Stephen asked.

"Defense against the Dark Arts." Draco replied.

"Oh joy. I hope we fare better than the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs."

Draco had to agree with that sentiment. Everyone had heard of Lockhart's first lesson that involved filling out a silly trivia quiz before he let a horde of Cornish pixies rampage through the classroom.

"His books are entertaining and well-written." Morag voiced her opinion.

Kevin snorted in derision. "Maybe, but it doesn't seem like the man can teach."

On their way to the Defense classroom Draco spotted one of the new Gryffindor fist years, the one he had labeled 'creepy stalker dude' in his mind. His real name was Colin Creevey and he was obsessed with Harry, taking pictures of him at every opportunity. He seemed to be searching for a good spot to intercept Harry later.

Draco pitied Harry on occasion. On their first day back at Hogwarts Colin had badgered Harry into signing a photo and Lockhart had observed the event. Then he had taken it on himself 'to tutor Harry in being a celebrity'. Draco doubted very much that Harry enjoyed it, especially because Lockhart had given Harry detention to secure time for it.

It wasn't long until they arrived at the Defense classroom; after a year at Hogwarts they knew the castle well enough to learn of the different shortcuts and avoid getting lost. Lockhart was already there, but he didn't look up from what he was doing. Draco could hear faint mutters of "Why do they blame ME for the pixies getting loose in the castle?"

Several minutes later the whole class was seated. Lockhart loudly cleared his throat and the formerly chatting students fell silent. He reached forward, picked up a copy of _Travels with Trolls _lying on his desk, and held it up to show his own, winking portrait on the front.

He pointed at it and winked as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by smiling at her!"

Only a few students laughed weakly, but Lockhart wasn't deterred in the slightest. "Today we start with a little quiz. Nothing to really worry about – I just want to know how well you read my books."

When Lockhart had finished handing out the test papers he retreated back to the front of the class. "Starting now, you have thirty minutes. Good luck."

Draco stared balefully at the paper. These questions were more a what-do-you-know-about-Gilderoy-Lockhart than what-do-you-know-about-defense-against-the-dark-arts test. It seemed as if a letter to his grandfather was in order; not that Draco believed that the board of governors would be very interested in the matter. They had let all the things from last year go without an investigation. If Binns was able to stay as a teacher there was no chance that they would take action against Lockhart.

Sighing, he started to fill in answers. There was no sense in attracting attention. He really didn't want to have detention with the man. Lockhart's books at least were easy to read even if they were filled with a lot of self-adulation. Draco's memory was good enough to answer most questions.

After he collected their tests Lockhart began rambling about his past deeds and his life as a celebrity. Draco tuned him mostly out. He was busy with creating a study schedule for himself. It didn't look like he would learn anything useful from Lockhart.

'_Great, another class I have to learn in self-study; as if History and Potions weren't enough. Hopefully nothing else of importance will happen this year.'_

* * *

><p>Lucius Malfoy was quite pleased with himself and the world. The idiot Fudge slowly began listening to him and he had suborned several other people in the Ministry. It would take quite a while longer to strengthen his influence enough to get them to take specific actions, but it was a start. Draco and Aquila were away at Hogwarts and his little present should show results soon. It was past time that the ancient halls of the school were cleansed from the filth that infested it.<p>

His other project was coming along nicely, too. It had been tricky to mix the first of his newly acquired substances into the food without anyone noticing. If he had tried to specifically tamper with his father's food it would have never worked. Lucius had been forced to sneak past the house elves and add it directly into the pot.

On its own the substance was completely harmless, meaning that detection charms geared to prevent poisoning weren't able to find it. It would stay in a body for about a year before dispersing harmlessly on its own. That gave him enough time to subtly purge himself and his wife of all traces before he added the second substance. Like the first one it was completely harmless on its own. Even combined the two substances did nothing, but when you added alcohol into the mix… well, someone would suffer a fatal heart attack in the foreseeable future. Sad, wasn't it?

He would be able to truthfully say that he didn't kill his father if someone tried to question him; after all it wasn't his fault that the old man liked his drinks. Even under veritaserum it would give him enough leeway. The old man had kept him waiting for far too long.

'_Soon, father, soon.'_

* * *

><p>Ginny blinked. Why was she standing in a bathroom? The last thing she remembered was leaving the Great Hall after dinner. Perhaps she had been unwell and came here to recover; she had felt a bit under the weather. It was probably the excitement of finally being at Hogwarts getting to her. It had barely been a week since she arrived at the castle.<p>

'_I hope I don't fall ill.'_ she thought when she made her way back to the dormitory.

* * *

><p>"He did what?" Draco asked in an incredulous tone.<p>

Aquila rolled her eyes. "Are you going deaf in your old age? Professor Snape overrode the normal schedule and gave the Quidditch field to the Slytherin team. The Gryffindors were pissed, I tell you."

"I can't blame them; they wanted to hold tryouts this morning. Is Snape trying to fan the dislike for Slytherin? There's absolutely no reason to do such a thing."

"Oh, it gets better. The two teams were squabbling and some spectators came over to see what happened. Then the insults started flying. Within a minute it was just about to escalate to spells and fists. Snape came swooping in just when the Gryffindors threw the first punch. He gave them all detention and took fifty points." Aquila explained.

Draco could only shake his head. In the past year he had seen a lot of Snape's blatantly biased actions that deliberately antagonized the whole school. He was a major contributing factor for the rift between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Luckily the other two houses were only involved to a lesser degree. Most Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws hated only Snape personally, not Slytherin House as a whole.

"I now understand why Grandfather dislikes the man so strongly. There isn't any subtlety to him. Do you think McGonagall will do anything?" his sister asked.

The blond boy snorted with contempt. "You can wait until kingdom come for that. She never stands up for anyone, especially not for her house. Oh, maybe she will run to the headmaster, but for some reason the old codger always backs Snape. Ultimately she will back down; she always does."

Aquila cocked her head thoughtfully. "Curious. I was in his class only a few times but I can already tell he isn't a good teacher. Do you have any idea why Dumbledore keeps him on staff?"

"I can only guess. Maybe Snape has dirt on him. It's the only way I can explain why he hasn't been sacked. I mean I have seen him take points for 'breathing too loudly', for crying out loud. Although he usually tries to keep his actions defendable he relies far too much on Dumbledore's support." Draco shrugged. "He has been here for around ten years and it doesn't seem likely that he'll leave anytime soon. Since he doesn't seem to have anything against us it's better for us to just keep our heads down. Anyway, how are you settling in?"

"I'm still learning my way around the castle. The family name helps for establishing my position in Slytherin. By the way, thanks for asking Daphne to help me. She's been invaluable." Aquila's expression changed to a scowl. "That cow Pansy expected me to bow down to her. I don't think I can challenge her position anytime soon, but I will be able to make my own group. Flora and Hestia are on my side already. The upper years mostly leave us alone. None of them are from families in our league. Otherwise I'm doing fine."

Draco smiled. "Glad to hear it."

"By the way, your girlfriend seems to have a few problems."

"Ginny isn't my girlfriend." he said in an exasperated voice.

Aquila patted him on the head before Draco could dodge her hand. "You keep telling yourself that, brother. Anyway, she still isn't over that silly crush on Harry Potter. It isn't as bad as it could be, but I don't have many opportunities to talk with her. If someone sees us together there will be problems. Not so much for me; I can always say I use her to spy on the other Gryffindors. I doubt her house would appreciate our friendship, though. Or her brothers for that matter."

"There's not much I can do. Most of the Gryffindors don't like me. Remember, I'm the big bad Malfoy that is so cunning to hide his scales. It's only a matter of time until I reveal my true nature and sink my teeth into the innocent Ravens, Badgers and Lions." he replied.

His sister laughed loudly. "They call you that? Really?"

Draco nodded. "I think Lee Jordan came up with that. The walnut-brained Weasel mostly calls me a slimy snake, but I usually avoid talking with him. Neville Longbottom, Granger and the other Gryffindor girls from my year are mostly okay, but there is a lot of resentment in the upper years. Family of Death Eater victims who don't believe Father's Imperius claim, mostly. It's slowly petering out since I don't do anything to antagonize them."

"Clever. They won't know what hit them when you finally take over the school."

He looked at her innocently. "Who says I plan to take over the school?"

"You're my brother and a Malfoy, that's enough." She looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Ohhh, please befriend me. I'm helpful and perfectly harmless. There aren't any deep, dark plans to take over the world."

Aquila's act was just too funny; Draco couldn't help himself and burst out in laughter. Even funnier for him was how close Aquila came to the truth without realizing it. His sister joined him in his laughter after a few moments.

"Merlin, that was funny. You should take up acting." Draco said when he stopped laughing.

The girl smirked. "I can't help but notice that you aren't disputing my claim."

"I can neither confirm nor deny any schemes for world domination on my part. It's standard procedure for prospective evil overlords. You should know that, oh sister mine."

They continued talking for a while, but all the interesting topics were finished. Soon enough it was time for them to part. Draco looked over the empty room they had used for their meeting. There existed many such rooms and deserted hallways. In truth the castle was far too big for the number of students enrolled at Hogwarts.

On his way to the library Draco stopped at the school notice-board to look if something interesting had come up. Several clubs were looking for new members. For a while Draco had toyed with the idea of founding his own club, but he shied away from the necessary time investment. A club founded by a second year would take too long to get off the ground. He had started a little informal football group, but the meetings and participating members were irregular at best. As it was he planned to join the History club. Despite Binns' best efforts he still found the subject genuinely interesting and looked forward to discuss it with likeminded people.

'_I wish I could share what the other Draco learned about the past. Oh well, perhaps I will find the opportunity in the future.'_

* * *

><p>Days and weeks passed by and Draco settled back into his Hogwarts routine. Spending time with his friends, doing schoolwork, expanding his net of acquaintances and especially research in the library to improve his skills filled his days. The Hogwarts Library was a veritable treasure trove of information, but it required a lot of effort. Most books only contained a few nuggets of valuable knowledge amidst a sea of useless drivel. It was really a shame that most students didn't use the opportunity while they were enrolled at Hogwarts. Later on it would be very difficult and costly to access such a well-stocked library. The restricted section was still closed to him, but he wasn't in a hurry. If he was still here after this year he would find a way to acquire the necessary permission. For now he was content with perusing the generally accessible stuff.<p>

September turned into a chilly October, causing a spate of colds amongst students and staff alike. Thanks to the Pepperup potions Madam Pomfrey used to cure it a large part of the Hogwarts population could be mistaken for smokers because of all the steam erupting from the patients' ears for hours after imbibing the potion.

During an especially rainy day Draco was relaxing in the warm Ravenclaw common room. He had a book in his hands but wasn't really reading. Instead he watched the Quidditch pitch through one of the large windows. Ravenclaw tower really offered one of the best views of the surrounding school grounds. Raindrops the size of bullets thundered against the glass, drenching the practicing Quidditch team to the bones.

'_Poor fools. I'm really glad I didn't take up Quidditch even after Father offered to buy new brooms for the complete team if I joined them.'_

Now that he was allowed to bring his own broom he flew whenever he felt the need and the weather was good enough. Occasionally Harry or some of his other friends joined him. It had led to a number of offers to try out for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, but Draco always declined politely. He didn't like the sport and it would take too much of his time. Dodging iron balls while being high in the air wasn't his idea of fun.

More days passed and absolutely nothing of note happened. Lockhart continued in his inept attempts at teaching, Binns was boring as ever, McGonagall was stern and so forth. Draco didn't notice any suspicious actions on Dumbledore's part or anything that required his full attention. His sister had no real problems and enjoyed her stay. The only hard part was acting as if his visits with Harry last summer didn't happen. It seemed the lack of memories of second year his other self had sent was completely justified by nothing happening.

Finally the day of the Halloween Feast arrived. The Great Hall had been decorated with the usual live bats. Pumpkins that were large enough for three men to sit in had been carved into lanterns. As usual the food was delicious. Midway through the feast Draco noticed that Harry and his three friends were missing, but he didn't think anything of it. Students were coming and going the entire time; they probably had just stepped outside for a breath of fresh air.

"This feast was much better than the last one. No panicked teachers and no troll." Kevin remarked when they made their way back to the dormitories after the feast ended.

Draco was about to agree when a commotion in front of them attracted his attention. A crowd of people was standing around in silence. With liberal use of his elbows Draco managed to push to the front of the crowd. What he saw made him stop in his tracks.

Harry, Justin, Hannah and Susan were standing in a large puddle of water, looking scared. Mrs. Norris, the cat of the caretaker Mr. Filch, was hanging from a torch bracket as stiff as a board. The worst part though was the words written on the wall in what looked like blood.

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED._

_ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE_

He didn't recognize who it was, but some began shouting in a gleeful voice. "Enemies of the heir, beware. You'll be next, Mudbloods."

Draco didn't pay any attention to the approaching footsteps. His thoughts were whirling chaotically.

'_We have a problem. I have no memories of this happening. That wasn't in the plan.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>My thanks to my reviewers.

I always found it pretty sad that Harry only visited the graves of his parents during the Horcrux Hunt. Even then it was more an incidental thing. Well, I took the opportunity for a bonding experience between Harry and Abraxas.

Another issue is that none of the adults ever took the time to speak with him about Lily and James. Disregarding possible influence by a hypothetical evil mastermind it doesn't paint a pretty picture. At least McGonagall should have talked with Harry about things. James and Lily were her favorite pupils and she had reason to suspect that Harry's upbringing had been less than stellar. Did she ever ask questions or look into Harry's home situation? It sure doesn't seem so.

It doesn't help that Harry never really asks questions himself. Part of it can be attributed to the fact that he doesn't know what questions to ask, but I would be satisfied if he had invested as much effort as he does for the regular plot of the year (which isn't very much). Harry is just so damned passive.

So long.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 7**

"Stop pacing Draco, you're wearing the carpet down."

Draco halted his wanderings and looked at Morag in silence. Finally his shoulders slumped. He sighed and flopped down in a chair.

"Better?"

Morag nodded. "Much. Now be a good boy and read something or take a nap. The commotion in the common room and the dorms is bad enough. I didn't come here for you to bring all that unrest with you."

The blond boy rolled his eyes. "Yes mother."

In an incomparable display of mature behavior Morag stuck her tongue out at him before she went back to reading the book in her lap.

They were currently in one of the small, comfortable study rooms near Ravenclaw tower. These rooms were a secret of the most studious members of Ravenclaw house and had been established decades ago by students who longed for a bit of peace and quiet. The common room and the dorms were often too noisy to really study in peace; the same was true for the library despite Madam Pince's best efforts. Access to the study rooms had to be earned and was granted by a vote from the small number of current members and the Head of House's approval. Generally only people who were absolutely serious about studying (and considering the usual Ravenclaw reputation that asked for a lot of dedication) and wouldn't abuse that privilege were included; the common room was for partying. Draco and Morag were the only second years to be granted that honor. They didn't use the rooms that often because it did cut down on contact with the other students.

Today was different. After the entire castle was abuzz since Filch's cat had been paralyzed he just couldn't stand to be around the others; all who wouldn't talk about anything else. The truth was he had almost panicked. He still was on the verge of panic, really.

For the first time in his life things were happening without him knowing everything important. As long as he could remember he had the memories of his other self to guide him. He knew many things about other people and their motives; things he had normally no chance of learning. The other Draco had sent an enormous amount of information and countless plans for all eventualities.

This time it was different. He had absolutely no information about the Chamber of Secrets or the Heir of Slytherin aside from the stories; no memory of something extraordinary happening this year. Up until now he had been able to act from a position of superiority, carefully weighing each decision. Now though he came to realize how much he depended on what his older self had sent back. Simply put, Draco didn't know what to do.

'_Perhaps I'm nothing but a puppet dancing on strings spanning through time.'_

Draco took a deep breath and tried to get his thoughts in order. He was a Malfoy and could deal with this.

'_Okay, stay calm and think carefully. What could have happened?'_

Option 1: It had been an especially vicious prank on Filch. The caretaker was universally hated; it wasn't out of the question that some older student had cursed the cat and put the writing on the wall. Depending on their family some of the upper years could conceivably know some pretty powerful magic that wasn't directly taught at Hogwarts. Harry and his friends had simply been unlucky enough to be the first on the scene. If this was the case Draco didn't have anything to worry about.

Option 2: It was one of Dumbledore's schemes he didn't use in the other timeline. Painting Harry as the Heir of Slytherin would isolate him from his peers. Add a few more incidents and most of the school would turn against him. The old man would use that to form Harry's personality in the desired direction. There wasn't much Draco could do directly, but he would be able to act as a voice of moderation.

Option 3: Someone really had opened the legendary chamber. Maybe he or she had found magical knowledge there or a monster was afoot. Why that someone would choose Filch's cat as his target and then announce the warning Draco didn't know. It just seemed stupid. On the other hand there was never a shortage of stupid people.

Draco sighed, causing Morag to send him a penetrating gaze. "I don't know why you are getting so worked up over this. It's probably only some prank."

"Maybe."

If it was the Chamber of Secrets or a comparable relic of times long past he didn't have the slightest idea what to expect. Sure, there were legends and history books, but Draco knew very well that almost all wizarding history was notoriously unreliable. Heck, practically everything they knew about the Founders had been made up centuries later. There had been so many deliberate falsifications in the writing of history of Magical Britain and Europe that no one knew anymore what had really happened. Sure, the Houses kept records of their own, but it wasn't as if a single House knew everything or if the people who wrote it down couldn't be mistaken or changing things for reasons of their own. It had been especially bad a few decades after their hidden society formed in the seventeenth century.

Revisionism had run rampant and the somewhat tyrannical government of the day had had no hesitations about changing books and making up history from thin air. It had been an effort to construct the image of a long-existing separate wizarding society when in fact they and the muggles had mostly been part of the same world before the statute of secrecy. That trend of blatant historical revisionism had continued for centuries with varying goals. Everything from the official history before the late nineteenth century was almost certainly manipulated and even after that it was sometimes deeply suspect.

Normally that was what made history fun for him. There was something deeply fascinating about comparing all the different versions and tracking down the falsehoods. The other Draco had spent much time scrying into the past. He had been mainly concerned with useful magical knowledge and had no time for purely scholarly pursuits, but the implications of what he had seen were fascinating. Draco really hoped he would find the time for more thorough investigations later in his life when he was good enough at scrying and had dealt with the other, more pressing problems.

A good example was Helga Hufflepuff. Today she was seen as a good and gentle soul hailing from the broad valleys of Wales. In reality she had been what would today be considered a very Dark witch. Her original home had been the Kingdom of Burgundy, but the woman had traveled far and wide in her quest for power. There were always rulers and princes she tried to ensnare. She had specialized in food-related magic and potions combined with some enchanting. Apples had been one of her favorites. Draco believed she had sparked several muggle fairy tales.

Helga had only fled to the rather remote region that was now Scotland when she had made too many enemies. It was true that she had accepted every pupil… as long as they pledged absolute loyalty to her and worked hard for their new mistress. On the positive side she treated her underlings quite well as long as they obeyed without question. It was much the same for every Founder; the real persons only bore a passing resemblance to their current image.

Suddenly Draco frowned._ 'Strange, I should know more about Slytherin's actions during his Hogwarts time. More proof that something is missing from the knowledge that my older counterpart sent me.' _He had to suppress another sigh._ 'I don't have enough information. I guess I just have to quietly investigate and wait if anything else happens.'_

* * *

><p>Narcissa had to held back tears as she firmly held Cassiopeia's hand. The old woman was drawing one rattling breath after another, but each one came a little slower and a little more pained. She had spent the last two weeks at her aunt's bedside almost without break. It was the least she could do for her favorite aunt, one of the last Blacks alive.<p>

During the summer Cassiopeia had seemed fine, but Narcissa had seen her aunt's potion usage. If she had been more moderate in her use she might have lived another year or two, albeit with an increasingly muddled mind. As it was her decline had been sudden and swift. Her once sharp mind had fallen apart quickly, descending from complete lucidity to senility in a few weeks. At first she hadn't known where she was and called for people long dead, not recognizing Narcissa or Abraxas. By now she wasn't able to speak anymore and her body was failing rapidly. Narcissa was glad that the decline only happened after the end of the summer holidays. It was better to spare Draco and Aquila from the sight.

"It won't be long now." her father-in-law said quietly. He was sitting on the other side of the bed, holding Cassiopeia's other hand. Narcissa only nodded in response.

Two hours before midnight on November 7th 1992 Cassiopeia Black passed away after 77 years of life.

* * *

><p>One week had passed since the Chamber of Secrets had allegedly been opened and Draco had made almost no progress in determining what had really happened. By now the buzz had died down somewhat, especially because there had been no further incidents. A few people mainly from Gryffindor had for some unfathomable reason come to the conclusion that Harry was the Heir of Slytherin and tried to avoid him in the hallways.<p>

Draco had taken a look at the seemingly non-removable writing. He had not been able to determine anything with his own magical skills, but the memories of his other self had provided several options how it could have been done.

'_I'm still not powerful and skilled enough to cast the advanced spells I need to unravel this. Why does the maturation and training of one's magic take so long?'_

The accidental magic children displayed was emotionally triggered and completely chaotic; the effects often not replicable. Frequency of accidental magic was highly variable; some like Neville only did it a single time while others racked up a count of several dozen incidents over the years. It was possible for children to use wands, but in most cases the chance of a spell misfiring was far higher than succeeding. At around nine or ten children slowly got their magic under control, enabling the purposeful casting of low-powered spells. Accidental magic almost completely disappeared at that age although it could happen even to adults under extreme emotional stress. At eleven practically all children could safely use a wand. Starting from age ten a wizard's innate magical power grew quickly until about fifteen. After that the natural gain of additional power slowed to a crawl.

Apart from the raw magical power one needed the knowledge of individual spells – wand movements, incantations and a purely mental part –, theoretical background in the different fields of magic as well as training in channeling one's power. The latter aspect was trained mostly automatically during their education; learning and practicing a wide variety of spells was all it took.

Draco knew that he would never belong to the most powerful of wizards, but it was enormously frustrating to know all sorts of extremely advanced spells and being unable to cast them. He was gaining more power and skill by the month and it was still not fast enough for his liking.

'_In half a year tops I should be capable of managing the advanced diagnostic spells. Then I will be able to find out more.'_

Suddenly a spray of water hit Draco in the face, interrupting his thoughts. One of the Slytherin Quidditch players had flown extremely close to the stands. When he curved away the water from his robes had splattered all over the spectators.

With a sigh Draco cast a hot-air charm at himself. Occasions like this made him hate Quidditch. The cold November rain was bucketing down, but that didn't prevent the Quidditch game from taking place. Thanks to an Impervious-charm his robes and wide-brimmed hat kept him reasonably dry, but it wasn't an enjoyable experience.

"Did you have to drag us out here, Stephen? We could have been sitting in the nice, dry and warm common room. If it gets any wetter we'll need swim trunks." Kevin said plaintively.

Apparently Draco wasn't the only one who would have preferred to stay inside. Unfortunately the Quidditch fanatics usually managed to drag the rest of the school with them. Only Morag seemed to have disappeared in time and Draco wished he had done the same.

"Hey, how else are we to observe the enemy teams? Besides, Quidditch is the best sport ever." Stephen replied without taking his eyes off the game. Ever since he had been accepted as reserve chaser of the Ravenclaw team in the tryouts his Quidditch enthusiasm had reached new heights.

Sighing again, Draco returned his attention to the game. The Slytherins were absolutely murdering the Gryffindors. Apparently Nott's father had bought new brooms for the entire team and the difference was showing. Nott himself wasn't playing, though. While he had participated in the tryouts he had no real talent on a broom and was intelligent enough to know and accept it. Still, the generous gift had improved his standing among his house tremendously.

'_He is far more intelligent and subtle than my other self at this age.'_

With a resounding WHAM one of the bludgers smashed into the elbow of Kenneth Towler, the Gryffindor seeker. Unfortunately for him he was already in a dive and lost control of his broom. With a splattering thud he hit the muddy ground and was thrown off his broom. After tumbling a short distance he came to a halt, loudly moaning in pain. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle, causing Draco to wince in sympathy.

A moment later the Slytherin seeker caught the snitch and the Slytherin stands erupted in cheers. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs applauded politely and the Gryffindors booed. Business as usual, really.

Draco was about to head back to the dry castle when Stephen's voice caused him to look back at the pitch.

"What is that idiot Lockhart doing?"

Kevin squinted. "It looks like he is trying to cast a spell on Kenneth."

It was difficult to make out any details through the curtain of rain, but when the assembled crowd on the pitch cried in outrage and Lockhart beat a hasty retreat to the castle they got a clean look.

"Oh Merlin, the moron has removed all the bones from his arm instead of mending them." Draco said, horrified.

The bystanders who had heard him winced. It was relatively easy to mend a broken bone, but re-growing them from scratch meant spending a very painful night in the hospital wing. Stephen wanted to stay a bit longer and observe what would happen, but Draco had enough. With Kevin in tow he headed back to the castle.

A few minutes later they reached the gates, but Draco held Kevin back for a moment.

"Better clean up before we leave muddy footprints all over the castle."

Kevin nodded in realization. "You're right. I don't want any trouble with Filch."

"Well, can you blame him?" Draco asked while removing the mud and wetness with a few spells. "Students leaving mud everywhere means more work for him. I never saw him use magic and there aren't enough elves to keep everything clean."

He often wondered why someone like Argus Filch was employed at the castle in the first place. His personality alone made letting him anywhere near children seem unwise. The old squib was bitter and vicious. It was probably made worse by him seeing day after day the one thing he would never have: magic. That he was a favorite target for pranks didn't help matters. Then there was the matter that many things in his job normally required at least basic abilities in spell casting like cleaning up the often magical spills, pranks or aftereffects of spells. As it was Filch had to go to one of the professors every time he couldn't handle something or resort to expensive magical cleaning supplies when a wizard would have only needed his wand.

They indeed met Filch on their way to Ravenclaw tower, but luckily the man did nothing more than glare at them menacingly.

After putting on more comfortable robes Draco made an effort to track down Morag. As expected he found her in one of the small study rooms absorbed in a book.

"Why doesn't Madame Pomfrey stand by at the pitch? There are always injuries." the red-headed girl wondered after Draco gave her a brief summary of the events of today's Quidditch match.

Draco shrugged. "Don't ask me. Sometimes she's there and sometimes she isn't. Did you make any progress with the Chamber of Secrets?"

"I found nothing apart from legends and guesswork. By now I don't believe there's anything easily accessible that can help us. The Chamber would have been found long ago if it was easy. I don't think we can make progress with the information available."

The blond boy sighed. "I guess you're right. Better to concentrate on schoolwork for now."

On the next morning Draco and his friends were on their way to the Great Hall when the voices of McGonagall and Flitwick coming from a side corridor caught their attention. Draco motioned for silence, trying to overhear the conversation.

"… found petrified this night. There was a bunch of grapes next to him so we think young Mr. Creevey wanted to visit Mr. Towler in the hospital."

"Petrified?" Professor Flitwick asked with a squeak.

"Yes." said Professor McGonagall. "But I shudder to think… If Albus hadn't been on the way downstairs for hot chocolate… who knows what might have…"

"Didn't the boy always have a camera with him? Perhaps he managed to get a picture of his attacker."

"Unfortunately, no. We already checked. The insides of the camera were completely melted. The chamber is indeed open again." the aged transfiguration professor answered.

"Again?" Stephen whispered when they left the corridor behind. "Does that mean the chamber has been opened before?"

"Apparently. I wonder if they will evacuate the castle." Kevin asked.

Draco only nodded absentmindedly. The part that had really caught his attention was about Dumbledore. Why would the man go the entire long way from his quarters to the kitchen to get a cup of chocolate when he could simply call a house elf to deliver it? It wasn't as if a stroll through the cold and drafty castle in the middle of the night was a favorite activity for old men.

Sitting down in the Great Hall he unobtrusively observed the other students, starting with the Gryffindors. Ginny seemed especially distraught. He had only found a few opportunities to exchange a few short words with her since Aquila had informed him of her problems. Unfortunately Ginny had been unwilling to discuss the matter.

Continuing his observations Draco found nothing overtly suspicious. There was no mention of the attack or possible consequences on part of the staff, but the rumor mill was already going strong. Once again people blamed Harry for the attack. It was still a minority, but a noticeably larger one than after the cat incident.

'_Of course, the faculty doesn't do anything about it. It makes the possibility that this is one of Dumbledore's schemes much higher.'_

He had to write his grandfather another letter. There hadn't been an answer to his last one. Draco knew that Aunt Cassie was dying and Grandfather was staying by her side, but this was important.

* * *

><p>Abraxas sighed deeply, sitting in his comfortable armchair in his warm study. Cassie was dead. The last person he could fully trust was now gone. His own time was running out, too. A year, perhaps a few months more; that was all he had left. Multiple incomplete letters covered his desk. He had to tell Draco and Aquila that their aunt was dead, but uncharacteristically for him he just wasn't able to find the right words. He couldn't delay much longer, though.<p>

Cassiopeia had left almost all her worldly possessions to Aquila, with some select items going to Narcissa, Draco and Harry. The will had already been probated by the Ministry; he had made sure of that. It would provide a layer of security and independence if Aquila ever needed to go against her head of family, namely her father. Abraxas dearly hoped it wouldn't come to that, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

With another sigh he stood and retrieved a glass and a bottle of liquor from a cabinet. For the first time in more than two weeks he indulged; it just hadn't seemed proper before and he had taken no regular meals with wine as usual. Cassiopeia had kept him too busy.

Looking out of a window into the rainy, windswept night he pondered his next steps. _'So much to do and so little time left.'_

A sudden, sharp pain in his chest caused him to gasp. His glass fell to the floor, bouncing off the carpet and spilling its contents.

"No, not yet."

Abraxas turned around, trying to reach his desk. The pain was becoming worse and he fell to the floor, not able to retain his balance as the room began to spin.

"Jonny! Dobby!" he managed to gasp out. With two pops the two house elves arrived. Their already large eyes widened when they saw him lying on the floor.

"Bezoar… St. Mungo's…" were the last words Abraxas managed before darkness claimed him.

* * *

><p>Aquila rolled her eyes when she spied a new talisman dangling from Flora Carrow's throat. "You don't believe that piece of garbage will do anything, do you?"<p>

The brunette girl seemed flustered. "Well… no, not really. But it's better to be careful, isn't it? I mean, where is the harm?"

Letting out an exasperated sigh Aquila answered with a few questions. "Besides you shelling out good money for a nice piece of quartz and becoming a laughing stock? You know the legend. Until now the alleged monster has only gone after a squib's pet and a muggleborn. What will the rest of the house think if they see you afraid of attack?"

Flora became deadly still for a moment. Then she ripped the talisman from her throat, audibly snapping the cord. A moment later she stuffed it into a pocket of her robe.

Hestia shook her head at the antics of her twin sister. "Thanks, Aquila. That was what I was trying to tell her the entire time."

"Good, now that this is over we can go to breakfast."

A few minutes later they left the dungeons and headed to the Great Hall. Since the Creevey boy's petrifaction had become public knowledge yesterday a roaring trade of talismans, amulets and other allegedly protective devices had swept the school, hidden from the teachers. Of course, all these trinkets were absolutely useless. Even if by some miracle one of the things had been working there was no telling what the danger was. A talisman against spider bites would do precious little against some obscure petrifaction curse.

Sitting down to eat, Aquila quickly gauged the mood of the school. Fear was running rampant and most people had taken to traveling in groups, but strangely no student had left Hogwarts or been pulled out by his or her parents. Neither had there been any additional security measures announced. The entire thing was just strange, but almost no one seemed to realize that.

Just when she had finished her meal the owls entered the hall. Aquila wondered if there would be any news about their aunt. She knew that Aunt Cassie was very ill, but her mother's and grandfather's letters had been very short in the last weeks. Father was currently out of Britain in the entourage of the Minister of Magic, visiting a few of the other countries. Soon she spied Draco's eagle owl carrying a letter. Hopefully she would know more soon. Aquila turned back to her table, deciding to eat another portion of the delicious strawberry jelly.

"I think there is something wrong with your brother." Flora remarked a short time later.

As soon as Aquila glanced at Draco she felt a lump of ice forming in her stomach. Draco had gone pasty white, holding the letter with almost imperceptibly trembling fingers. A moment later he mostly regained his composure and stood up with jerky movements that soon smoothed out. When he arrived by her seat his face was back to normal, but his eyes showed clear anguish. She knew what that meant but managed to keep her composure.

"Aquila, we have to talk privately. Now."

The walk out of the Great Hall was torture. Many eyes were upon them, but she held her head high. She couldn't do anything about the paleness of her cheeks. It seemed an eternity until they were safely away in one of the unused rooms of the castle.

Draco cast a few spells at the door of the room before he turned to her. "Mother wrote that Aunt Cassie died three days ago."

The platinum blond girl felt numb inside. The news wasn't unexpected, but still hit her hard. Aunt Cassie had always been there for her. She had been the one to introduce her to hunting and always encouraged her to pursue her own interests and independence. When she had some issue she didn't want to discuss with her mother Cassie had always provided an open ear and sound advice. And now she was gone forever.

Her brother sighed deeply and visibly steeled himself before he continued speaking. "That is not all. Last night Grandfather had a seizure. He managed to call Jonny and Dobby to take him to St. Mungo's. They still don't know what caused it, but it mainly affected his heart. He hasn't regained consciousness and the healers are skeptical if he ever will."

Aquila felt herself freeze up. Grandfather couldn't be gone, he just couldn't. He was **the** Malfoy and had always been a tower of strength. Kind smile and stern face; absolute commands and grandfatherly advice. The old man was the one who had defined her life like no one else, not Aunt Cassie and not Mother. Certainly not her father.

Two of the four most important people in her life were gone in the span of a few days. Dark spots began dancing before her eyes and her legs went out from under her, but Draco caught her and pulled her close. The young girl threw her arms around her brother and began to sob uncontrollably. Soon she would have to act completely composed again, but for a few minutes she could allow herself to freely express her grief.

* * *

><p>The old man wasn't dead.<p>

Lucius crumpled the letter in his hands. Why wasn't he dead? He had applied the second component of the poison more than two weeks ago before he left Britain. Four or five days later the two components in Abraxas' body should have reacted enough to make any amount of alcohol deadly. Since a glass of wine was customary with many meals his father should have died days ago.

The delay was perplexing, but apparently it had worked at last. Only the old man wasn't dead.

'_If he doesn't wake up there isn't any problem. Should he recover though… The poison is undetectable, but he might suspect something. I will have to prepare a fallback plan.'_

* * *

><p>With a tired sigh Draco drew the curtains of his bed shut and began to meditate. The last days had been rough. He and Aquila had been pulled out of the school for a few days to attend Aunt Cassie's funeral and visit Grandfather in St. Mungo's. Grandfather had seemed so fragile when he saw him.<p>

Draco sighed again. His grandfather was the most important person in his life. In fact, Abraxas was far more of a father figure for Draco than Lucius. It wasn't as if Lucius didn't love him. Draco held some amount of affection for his father. The problem was that Lucius was neither a good man, father nor head of house Malfoy. He knew how the other Draco had turned out without Abraxas in his life. Granted, Draco had the memories of his older self, but he wasn't so conceited to believe that he could have done without proper parenting.

'_What happened to Grandfather? He should have had another year without health problems.'_

His best guess was poison despite the healers not finding anything. The problem was that there were too many parties who could have done it. Abraxas had lived for a long time; meaning he had ample opportunity to make enemies. Apart from Dumbledore, various families on all sides of the political spectrum that weren't enthused about his grandfather's policies and even his father it was always possible that some wrong done in his past had caught up with Abraxas. Since Draco was back at Hogwarts he didn't have any opportunity to investigate. At least Aquila seemed to coping well, all things considered.

The incapacitation of his grandfather posed another problem: There wasn't an adult left he could fully trust. That meant he would have no external help in investigating the happenings at Hogwarts or be able to help in his more clandestine plans. Starting now Draco was effectively on his own.

To distract himself from the situation Draco began with another in-depth exploration of his own mind. Suddenly he frowned_. 'Curious. There is some slight mental pressure that prevents people from thinking rationally about the entire Heir of Slytherin situation. I think that isn't aimed directly at me, though. It looks more like it originates from a general ward.'_

Hogwart's wards were extensive, complicated and hardly comprehensible, let alone understandable. Over the centuries wards had been removed, added, modified, combined and split up by persons of various ability and knowledge. From what the effects on his mind looked like the in question ward seemed to have originally been designed to prevent homesickness, but it had been expanded into a full-blown mental influence ward. Not as effective by far as a direct spell, but that made it only more insidious. Even most competent practitioners of the mind arts would have trouble noticing the thing. It was even more subtle than the compulsion Dumbledore had used on him last year. The old man had had decades to become familiar with the wards and could probably use them like a virtuoso.

'_Let's think about what reasons Dumbledore could have. He keeps the fear alive, but not enough to cause people to withdraw from the school. He prevents anyone from looking rationally at things. A few more incidents that implicate Harry in some way and the pressure will increase once again. All in all it looks like one of his demented games; just like with the fake philosopher's stone last year.'_

Then he shook his head. He couldn't afford to neglect the possibility that someone else was responsible for the incidents and Dumbledore was only using them for his own goals. First thing tomorrow he would head into the library and peruse back issues of the Daily Prophet. If anyone asked he could pretend it was a project about the different Minister for Magic for the History Club.

* * *

><p>Ginny was slowly panicking. Something was <em>wrong<em> with her. The periods of missing memories were increasing in frequency and length. Sometimes she found herself in some hallway or room without any idea how she had gotten there. She had tried talking with other people about it, but she found she just _couldn't_.

Her brothers didn't seem to realize the extent of her problems; they seemed to think she was just frightened. The same was true for her other housemates. The only ones who seemed to suspect more were Draco and Aquila. Ginny had tried to tell Draco on their last meeting about her amnesia, but it had been impossible. The words just wouldn't come.

By now she was sure it was the fault of the damned diary she had found in her cauldron. It called itself Tom and seemed nice, but it was the only thing that could have caused her problems. Ginny tried to stop writing in it, she really tried. It never worked; she always found herself writing in it at the end of the day.

Her mind seemed to split at times; often she didn't remember that she was missing memories. Moments of complete if helpless clarity like now became rarer and rarer.

'_Stop it! I don't want to; I don't want to…'_ she screamed helplessly inside her mind as her hands sought out the diary and began writing.

**_Dear Tom, today…_**

* * *

><p>Draco gently massaged his forehead. He could feel a headache coming. It had taken him more than a month to assemble information he should have been able to gather in a week at most. Books and old editions of the Prophet had seemingly been misfiled and he had to fight constantly against the compulsion to simply ignore relevant things. He had to be exceedingly careful not to rouse suspicion. Now that his grandfather was incapacitated Dumbledore might very well resort to more extreme measures if he threatened his plans. That meant he had to cut down on his contact with Harry as far as possible.<p>

Fact 1: The Chamber of Secrets had allegedly been opened in the 40's although it had been kept quiet.

Fact 2: The girl now known as Moaning Myrtle had died in 'a freak accident' and come back to haunt the place of her death, the girl's bathroom on the second floor where the attack on Mrs. Norris had taken place.

Fact 3: Hagrid had been accused of harboring a dangerous animal that had caused the petrifactions and Myrtle's death. After he had been expelled the incidents stopped. Strangely, he had been employed as the groundskeeper from that day forth.

Fact 4: Tom Riddle a.k.a. Dark Lord Voldemort had received an award for special services to the school at the same time.

Fact 5: Dumbledore had been the Transfiguration Professor at the time and knew all this.

While Hagrid did have a decidedly warped view of what made acceptable pets Draco didn't know of anything that would be able to petrify people, kill without a trace (a ghost looked exactly like when he had died. Draco had seen Myrtle and she was physically intact) and be able to avoid detection. Gorgons only caused petrification, but they were human-sized and shouldn't be able to avoid being spotted by the portraits. Cockatrices were another possibility that could both kill and petrify, but the things were normally too loud to go unnoticed.

'_Of course, Slytherin was a master of chimerology, the art of creating new life forms. He could have created anything.'_

"Draco, are you coming? The Dueling Club is about to start." Kevin said.

'_Great, just when I was about to connect the facts.'_

"I don't know why you're so excited about it. It'll be probably pretty lame." Draco answered when he stood up.

"Hey, don't say such things. It's going to be great."

The Dueling Club completely fulfilled Draco's expectations of something taught by Lockhart assisted by Snape. After getting embarrassed by the Potions Professor Lockhart caused a free-for-all fight that produced a number of injuries.

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells." said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall after the chaos had been cleaned up. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair. Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you…"

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart." Snape smiled maliciously. "How about Nott and Potter instead?"

The crowd backed away from the pair. Harry seemed very nervous and Nott confident. Lockhart losing his wand when he tried to show off to Harry obviously didn't do anything to reassure the boy. Draco noticed that Snape whispered something into Nott's ear before they took position

When the match started Nott raised his wand and calmly said "Serpensortia!"

A large black snake emerged from his wand, ready to strike. Harry froze at the sight and the crowd screamed.

"I'll get rid of it. Don't move, Potter." Snape drawled lazily.

Before the black-haired man could do anything Lockhart shouted "Allow me!" and pointed his wand at the snake. Instead of vanishing the conjured animal was thrown high into the air and landed directly before his friend Kevin Entwhistle. Immediately it raised itself again, ready to strike. Then something happened Draco didn't expect.

Harry hissed at the snake.

'_Fuck me with a wand. Harry is a Parselmouth.'_

The snake immediately relaxed, but a quick look to the sides showed Draco that the other students didn't see it that way. Even Kevin didn't seem to understand that Harry had calmed the snake and ran out of the room after shouting at Harry. The rest of the student body looked at Harry as if he was infectious.

'_Great, just great. Now the entire school will think he is the Heir.'_

Later that evening Draco lay in his bed, thinking. Kevin was still badly shaken, but Draco thought he had managed to calm him down somewhat. Unfortunately he couldn't do anything about the attitude of the school at large.

He hadn't known that Harry was a Parselmouth. That was highly sensitive information. It was nearly inconceivable that his older counterpart hadn't known that fact or neglected to transmit the knowledge. That was the last proof he needed that he was definitely missing things. Well, he would have to try and find everything that had perhaps been misplaced during the holidays. He would even have to open the 'do not watch until puberty'-memories.

Anyway, for now he wanted to try something else. Once his roommates were soundly asleep Draco snuck out of the room, his silver scrying bowl in hand. As soon as he was in his bathroom stall he began the scrying. Until now he didn't have a starting point; without knowing where to look his talent was useless. Space in Hogwarts was often warped, making a systematic search impossible.

Myrtle's bathroom seemed the best place to begin. He didn't dare to speak with her, but perhaps he could discover some hint from afar. At first glance everything seemed to be normal. Then he tried to move his viewpoint through the different walls. Before he finished with that task someone entered the bathroom.

'_This is Ginny. What is she doing there at this time of the night?'_

Watching in fascination, he observed how the redhead approached one of the sinks at a wall he hadn't gotten around to test yet. Looking closely, he saw that the girl's mouth contorted in a hiss while her eyes had a curiously empty expression and seemed to glow faintly. Then a section of the wall opened and the sink sank into the ground, revealing a large stone pipe. Ginny reached down, touching a specific section of the edge. From the sides of the pipe steps emerged, forming a circular stair leading into the depths. Pale ghost light provided illumination.

Draco's vision followed Ginny during her entire journey. He could see that there was a network of pipes and tunnels, but the staircase went directly down, bypassing most of them. Finally the descent ended in another system of tunnels. Ginny stepped heedlessly over a gigantic snake skin of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor.

That was all it took for Draco to understand. _'A basilisk. This will be a problem.'_

Several minutes later Ginny entered an enormous pillared hall. She came to a halt before a large statue of a bearded wizard. When Draco looked closely he spied a diary in the girl's hands, its pages fluttering as if alive. For a time nothing seemed to happen, but then the mouth of the statue opened, revealing a dark, slithering form.

In that moment Draco ended the scrying, his mind working furiously.

'_It looks like Ginny is possessed by the diary, whatever it is. Most likely it was enchanted by Tom for opening the Chamber again. How can Dumbeldore not know what is happening? He has most of the information I have and was here when it happened fifty years ago. It would be the easiest thing in the world to set up an alarm ward in Myrtle's bathroom. Besides, the Gryffindor common room has a portrait as guardian. Ginny literally can't wander the castle without being detected; not when Dumbledore knows something is afoot.'_

A yawn interrupted Draco's thoughts. It was very late and he needed sleep. Tomorrow evening he would think about it more.

* * *

><p>Daphne looked critically at her blond friend. "You look like death warmed over, Draco."<p>

The boy shrugged. "I had a bit of trouble sleeping."

Deciding to let it go, Daphne switched to another topic. They had set up a silencing spell. Binns wasn't worth listening to, anyway. "What do you think about Harry? I never imagined he could have been a Parselmouth."

"It was certainly unexpected. I still don't think he has anything to do with what happened to the boy and the cat." Morag answered.

"Are you sure about that?" Stephen asked hesitantly. "I mean, being able to speak to snakes is a sure sign of being Dark. Kevin is still terrified about the snake."

Daphne, Morag and Draco exchanged glances. They knew very well that all Parselmouths were labeled as Dark Wizards in the public opinion. Most of the Old Families had a different opinion, but it wasn't wise to openly state such a thing. The Snake Wars had taken place almost two centuries ago, but ever since then all Parselmouths had been vilified. It wasn't as if one would be lynched anymore. Sometimes it came close, though.

"Where is Kevin anyway? He didn't feel well this morning and went to the hospital wing, but he should be back by now." Draco asked with a frown.

Suddenly Daphne noticed that the other students were rushing out of the room. "Draco, take down your spell. Something is happening."

The group had trouble seeing anything since they were at the back of the crowd. One thing they could see was the Gryffindor ghost Nearly Headless Nick floating immobile and horizontal. His normally pearly white color had changed into a smoky black. Soon enough the shouts made clear what had happened, though. Harry had been found standing over the petrified body of Kevin Entwhistle.

Morag's and Stephen's face showed shock, but Draco looked immensely angry. He clenched his fists so hard that Daphne was afraid he would hurt himself. A moment later he relaxed and his face lost the expression of anger, replaced by a fake worried expression.

'_What is going on here? He clearly knows something.'_

Suddenly a loud bang went off, stopping the commotion. McGonagall had arrived.

* * *

><p>'<em>That old, demented fool. Does the safety of the students mean nothing to him?'<em>

Draco was pacing again, but this time he had chosen an unused room. Considering what had happened fifty years ago the school should have been evacuated, but once again there weren't even new security measures introduced. At least the last incident had made clear to him why the victims were only petrified and not dead. Apparently meeting the basilisk's gaze only indirectly changed the magic somehow. It opened another nasty can of worms, though.

There had been water on the ground when Mrs. Norris was petrified. The stalker boy looking through his camera while encountering the basilisk was strange (who did that while walking in an empty corridor?), but at least somewhat plausible. That Nick had been just in the right position when the basilisk appeared to shield Kevin was stretching luck too much, though. It was almost as if he had been sent to shadow the basilisk and only intervene when a student was about to be killed.

'_Dumbledore knows, but he is doing nothing to stop it.'_

Neither Creevey nor Kevin had been in a place to where the basilisk could easily get. It should have been spotted by some portraits. That led to only one conclusion. They had spotted it, but did nothing. Unfortunately, all portraits in the castle had to obey the Headmaster.

Dumbledore wasn't responsible for letting the basilisk loose, but he prevented people from finding out and taking effective measures. Under normal circumstances the Daily Prophet should have been screaming about it and parents should be withdrawing their children en masse. Well, perhaps not the parents who believed in the legend that only muggleborn would be targeted. As it was Dumbledore (with the probable help of Fudge) was suppressing the news. Draco wondered if he somehow tampered with the mail or if his reputation was enough. Apparently the old man wanted to let this play out, probably to forge Harry into the martyr he wanted.

'_Another possibility is that he truly believes only Harry can do something against Voldemort because of that damned prophecy. When the time is right he will steer Harry into a confrontation.'_

It was always difficult to tell what the old man's true plans were. Draco had no intention of letting him get away with it, of course. Which was the reason why he was lying in wait in this room. A quick Tempus-charm showed him that it was almost time.

Opening the door to a small gap he peered out. Footsteps approached, causing Draco to withdraw a bit. As soon as they receded he poked his head out and looked in all directions. A single small form with red hair was walking away from him, but otherwise the coast was clear.

"Stupefy!" Draco whispered. A red light sprang from his wand and hit Ginny in the back, causing the girl to slump to the floor.

Before anyone could see them Draco dragged her into the empty room. It was a bit awkward to search her, but he couldn't afford any unnecessary scruples. Soon he held the diary in his hands. A quick perusal proved that it belonged to a T.M. Riddle and seemed otherwise empty. His first few diagnostic charms showed nothing, but when he tried to nick it with a low-powered cutting charm nothing happened.

'_Okay, the thing is clearly magical and cleverly enchanted. I doubt anyone apart from the professors would be able to unravel it.'_

Weighing his options carefully, Draco came to a decision. He didn't feel ready, but didn't think he could wait for another opportunity.

With a deep breath he began casting one of the spells the other Draco had sent back. It was an unbelievably complex spell to analyze magical phenomena that was a state secret of the Mage Moguls of Southeast Asia. More than once he felt the spell matrix slip from his grasp and he struggled to provide enough magical power lest the spell collapse, but somehow he managed. Soon his mind began to dive into the enchantments of the diary.

'_Protection against fire, water, acid, magical analysis and dozens of other things… Huh, don't know what that one does; something about memory and illusion… another layer of protections…'_

When Draco was finally finished he slumped to the floor, completely exhausted. This diary was a Horcrux, among other things. A Horcrux he had known nothing about.

He glared at the harmless looking diary. This vile thing had already made a connection with Ginny and was slowly draining her life. It wasn't very effective in that endeavor, though. In fact, judging from its actions the artificial mind of the diary seemed rather stupid. Drawing attention by, say, opening the Chamber of Secrets was a completely counter-productive thing to do. Additionally, some of the enchantments were in conflict with each other or felt very strange, but he didn't have the knowledge to understand everything he had seen.

'_Don't get distracted, Draco. I can't simply destroy the thing. It has its hooks in Ginny's mind. Burning it with Fiendfyre or using basilisk venom will cause a backlash. Psychological damage is almost certain. In the worst case she will end up as completely crazy; in the second worst case she'll become a vegetable.'_

Wiping the sweat of his face, Draco stood up. He would have to think carefully how he wanted to proceed. Over the holidays he would be able to slip away into Grandfather's hideout. With the Malfoy pensieve and some reference books he should be able to figure out more. For the time being he would leave the diary in Ginny's possession. Removing it wouldn't break the connection anyway; it was too late for that. He had no way of safely imprisoning Ginny and bringing in external support would cause all sorts of problems, not the least questions about how he knew about such things.

After he put the diary back in Ginny's pocket he checked her over. The girl would remain stunned for perhaps five minutes; enough time for him to get away. She would probably wonder about what had happened, but there was nothing he could do about it.

'_I guess I should visit Kevin in the hospital wing. Damn Dumbledore for allowing it to happen.' _he though when he disappeared through a door. The matter was now personal even if the old man didn't know it.

* * *

><p>Daphne had to hide an amused smirk while observing the two imposters impersonating Crabbe and Goyle. They tried and thoroughly failed to imitate them. Nott was having a lot of fun telling them outrageous stories.<p>

The blond-haired girl idly wondered who they were under the polyjuice. Perhaps the Weasley twins. It wasn't as if many students stayed over the holidays. Snape had thrown a tantrum about missing ingredients a few days ago, but the thief hadn't been found. Boomslang skin wasn't used for much else aside from the shape-changing potion.

When the two boys finally fled the room Nott began to laugh. It started slow, but escalated into full-blown laughter until tears streamed from the boy's face.

"What was this about?" Daphne asked curiously when he had calmed down. She didn't like Nott, but they were always polite to each other.

Wiping the last tears away, Nott answered. "I think they thought that I'm the Heir of Slytherin and asked me all sorts of questions. I wonder what gave them the idea." He sighed. "I wish I knew who it is."

Daphne shrugged. "Don't we all? Perhaps he was sorted into another house."

"Maybe." Nott replied vaguely.

Soon enough they went back to reading. When the real Crabbe and Goyle returned Daphne barely spared them a glance. The company over the holidays at Hogwarts was decidedly lacking, but she had no interest in going home. Her parents were away on a business trip and she had no desire to spend her time alone with her uncle's family. Uncle Liam was a fanatic and she couldn't stand his wife or their children. Her little sister Astoria was with their grandmother, visiting some relations in Rome.

'_I hope Draco has happier holidays.'_

* * *

><p>In a luxurious private room at St. Mungo's an old man stirred and wearily opened his eyes. He was feeling so weak.<p>

'_I'm still alive.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>My thanks to my reviewers.

A bit of explanation about Draco's lack of knowledge about the basilisk: The older Draco's memories of second year (and the related issues) were overwritten when Abraxas inserted the artificial memories about Luna/Aquila's childhood. Since the memories were still hidden at that point the old man never noticed.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 8**

Draco sat back from the pensieve with a despondent sigh. He couldn't do this. The damned diary was far too complex for him to fully understand, let alone disenchant. Despite all his diligent studying and transplanted memories Draco still was a second year student. He lacked the knowledge, skill and magical power to deal with such things. Thanks to the pensieve and the reference books from the Malfoy libraries (open, hidden and the family secret one only he and his grandfather knew about) he had made some progress, but there just wasn't enough time. It was very difficult to slip away from his family during the holidays for hours a time, but he managed. In a few days he would have to return to Hogwarts, ending all research he could do.

'_Well, what I did learn is very interesting.'_

He had acquired a rough understanding what each enchantment did, but the how and especially the interactions of the individual spells mostly eluded him. That made it impossible to develop effective countermeasures. One thing he did learn was that the diary was a failed attempt at making a horcrux. Oh, there was a piece of soul enclosed in it, but it didn't have any connection to the rest of Tom Riddle. It did nothing to anchor him in this world. His best guess was that there were so many different enchantments on the thing that they interfered with each other in addition to some fundamental flaws in the assumptions Riddle had made when he worked out the ritual he used. After all, it wasn't as if there was a ready-made instruction for the creation of horcruxes in the Hogwarts library.

_Secrets of the Darkest Arts _held some information, but it was so rudimentary and simplistic to be basically useless. Thanks to his future memories Draco knew that a copy of that book had been in the restricted section before Dumbledore had removed it. The old fool probably believed it was as simple as murdering someone to fracture one's soul (souls didn't work that way), taking a loose piece of soul and stuffing it into an object using two or three simple spells. There was a lot of misinformation in circulation thanks to authors presenting mere speculation as fact, translation or transcription errors or sometimes even deliberate falsification. Just because something was written down in a book didn't make it true.

The true process (or rather processes; there were many different ways that would yield a similar end result) was far more complex. It was a testament to Tom Riddle's intellect that he had been able to cobble a working ritual together from pieces of information strewn over dozens of different books while he was still at Hogwarts. That didn't mean he got it right, though.

'_I wish I could compare the enchantments on the diadem with the diary, but there just isn't time.'_

After putting away the books Draco had used he left the hideout. His parents and Aquila were at the Ministry's New Year reception and Grandfather was still at St. Mungo's. The news of his grandfather waking up had come as an immense relief. Unfortunately the old man was still very weak. He would return to Malfoy Manor before the holidays ended, although he wouldn't be able to leave his bed for a month or two.

Draco had needed to fake an illness to stay home, but he had needed the time. Luckily the house elves would cover for him since they rather liked him; a thing that couldn't be said of his father and to a lesser degree his mother. If not for his grandfather the two would have needlessly mistreated the elves by assigning excessive punishments. Why his father did such a stupid thing Draco didn't know, but at least his mother seemed to regard it as completely normal behavior. It was probably some masochistic tendency of some of the Black house elves she had grown up with.

At least what he had seen of Walburga Black's house elf Kreacher supported that theory. Great-Grandfather Pollux Black had put him down years ago, but Draco had visited Grimmauld Place one time while he was still alive. The creepy thing along with the portrait of Walburga had given him nightmares for days. At the current time the house was unused; none had bothered to clear it from dangerous objects, creatures and curses.

'_I wish I had known about the locket horcrux at the time. It would have been an easy picking. Now I have to wait for another opportunity to visit the house.'_

When Draco returned to the main house he took extra care to erase his tracks. No traces could be allowed to remain that indicated he had left his room. Changing into his sleepwear, he crawled into his bed, thinking about what he could do.

He couldn't just leave the situation alone. If he let events take their course Harry would probably end up facing the basilisk and the diary. It would be just like Dumbledore to engineer such a situation. That could easily mean the boy's death and everything would have been for naught. Then there was Ginny. She would either die when the diary completely drained her life or suffer incalculable mental damage if the diary was destroyed somehow. Draco didn't wish that on anyone; especially not an eleven year old girl who was friends with his sister. That wasn't even talking about the possibility of a second Tom Riddle running around if the diary was victorious, although Draco was pretty sure that there was something wrong with the enchantments responsible for revival.

'_I have to involve Grandfather; there is no other way. But what should I tell him?'_

* * *

><p>Propped up by several pillows, Abraxas simply stared at his grandson. He was pretty certain he would have fallen down if he wasn't already in his bed. His body was still so damned weak, but at least his mind and magic seemed to be working correctly. Well, considering what he thought Draco had said a moment ago his mind might not be in that good a condition.<p>

"Please repeat that, Draco."

His grandson shuffled slightly on his feet. "I had another vision. When I followed the hints I discovered that a basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets is loose at Hogwarts. It was freed by a girl controlled by a magic diary enchanted by Voldemort. The vision taught me some kind of complex diagnostic spell to use on the diary. Unfortunately I don't understand what I saw and put the memory in the pensieve along with a few other things. I strongly suspect Dumbledore knows but isn't doing anything about it. For some reason he's putting pressure on Harry; pushing him to deal with it. The vision was clear that we have to destroy the thing, but make it look like Harry was responsible. If it is in any way possible we have to free the girl without damaging her; I don't know why."

Abraxas pinched the bridge of his nose. This complicated things. Since he had woken on Christmas he had done his utmost to catch up on current events, but the healers hadn't been especially forthcoming. Some crap about not putting any stress on him. Well, not knowing what was going on in the world was far more stressful in his opinion. He had heard some rumors about something happening at Hogwarts, but nothing definitive. Lucius had begun on his own initiative to put pressure on the board of governors and Minister Fudge to investigate or throw Dumbledore out if he couldn't deal with the situation. For once Abraxas agreed completely with the actions of his son. He didn't especially like that Lucius had taken over practically all his positions (on a temporary basis), but someone had to fulfill those duties.

Now that he knew a basilisk was slithering around he was sorely tempted to withdraw Draco and Aquila from Hogwarts immediately. Those things weren't exactly able to distinguish between people and the risk of his grandchildren being attacked was not inconsiderable. On the other hand he was still far too weak to make all the necessary arrangements and it would draw attention to him. He had been incapacitated shortly after Halloween. Now it was already January. There wasn't much time left for him to recover and arrange Harry's, Draco's and Aquila's flight from Britain. Besides, it would be far too dangerous to disregard such a vision. Following Draco's last one had proved highly beneficial, after all.

"Did you see anything more?"

Draco nodded. "Yes, but I can't tell you everything. The vision was very clear what I can tell you and what I can't."

In the following minutes he and his grandson discussed the details. He would have to see the contents of the pensieve for himself, but he provisionally agreed with Draco's plan to return to Hogwarts. During his recovery he couldn't really leave the manor and take care of other business; ample time to find a solution for the diary problem. There was only one question left. "Do you know a way out of the castle? I can't exactly do anything while you and the girl are at Hogwarts."

Draco nodded. "There is a vanishing cabinet at Borgin and Burkes we'll have to buy. Its counterpart is already at Hogwarts, but it is damaged. I know how to repair it and it will circumvent the wards completely. That shouldn't take me more than a few weeks."

After Abraxas gave his approval and Draco left he drew up a letter to one of his bailiffs to purchase the cabinet and send it to him. The woman normally oversaw some of the Malfoy properties and interests that he liked to keep out of the public eye. They were not illegal, but definitely on the shadier side. She was just the right person to arrange for an anonymous transaction with a business as disreputable as Borgin and Burkes.

Once he had completed that task he relaxed and tried to get some rest. Unfortunately, the threefold question that had been foremost in his mind ever since he woke up kept him from sleeping. What had caused his illness, how had it been done and who was behind it. The options for what were poison or some obscure spell or curse ritual. All examinations of his person and all the things he had come in contact with had come up empty. He had no idea about the what and how. Unfortunately, the who was even more difficult.

'_I have made too many enemies. There are probably more than a hundred people who would stop at hardly anything to see me dead. If someone like Rafid the Lord of Thieves found out my real identity or some other way to get to me…' _

Abraxas shuddered. In his youth and especially during the decade he spent in the Middle East he hadn't been always as careful as he should have been. Experience came with age, after all. He had made more enemies than necessary. Granted, by now most of those enemies had already met their end and he had used a false identity during those years, but it was always possible that someone had tracked him down.

Some part of him wondered if Lucius was responsible. Impatient heirs were a known problem, after all. Still, he didn't want to believe that of his son. Additionally, Lucius just wasn't that good a schemer. Unfortunately he couldn't get confirmation. In the past few years Lucius had improved his occlumency skills enough that Abraxas couldn't simply read his mind without making it obvious. He just couldn't chance a potentially violent confrontation in his weakened state. If he was wrong and Lucius got away before he could wipe the memories it would destroy their relationship completely and Lucius could potentially start a criminal investigation against him. It would fizzle out quickly considering who he was, but he just didn't have the time to deal with a problem of such magnitude.

Sighing, he decided that attempting to sleep was futile. Instead he called one of the house elves to bring him the last issues of the Daily Prophet. He might as well catch up on the news. Abraxas noted several things of interest. He chuckled slightly when he came upon one of the more amusing articles.

_INQUIRY AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC _

_Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, was today fined fifty Galleons for bewitching a Muggle car. _

_Mr. Lucius Malfoy, a governor of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, called today for Mr. Weasley's resignation. "Weasley has brought the Ministry into disrepute," Mr. Malfoy told our reporter. "He is clearly unfit to draw up our laws and his ridiculous Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped immediately." _

_Mr. Weasley was unavailable for comment, although his wife told reporters to clear off or she'd set the family ghoul on them._

Weasley was an incompetent fool and a hypocrite. The only reason he occupied any position of importance was his association with Dumbledore while his original employment was thanks to nepotism. The now practically extinct Prewett family had possessed enough influence to get him a job after he married Molly Prewett right out of Hogwarts. The man knew barely anything about the muggle world and was too stupid to learn in an organized manner.

It was an interesting and little known fact of life that the leading purebloods houses often knew more about the muggle world than the bulk of wizards and witches. Someone had to know enough to keep their world hidden, after all, and many old families had business interests there. Money had no smell. Abraxas had been carefully tutored in his youth how to act appropriately and stay inconspicuous, just like he had done for his grandchildren. Over the years he had kept his knowledge as up to date as possible. He knew very well that he had only a very basic understanding of science and many other things, but at least he had some of it. Unfortunately, this knowledge wasn't as common as it once was mainly thanks to people like his son choosing willful ignorance.

The closeness of the relationship between the wizarding world and the muggle world varied widely over the decades and centuries, depending on the actual political climate. It had ranged from complete isolationism to deep fascination, complete with adopting things that made sense in a muggle context but were less than useful to wizards. The last 'modernization' had been pushed through after the Grindelwald war by Dumbledore and his friend Elphias Doge, but they had only been the last in a line of politicians with such an agenda. A similar push took place every few decades. Consequently a counter-movement disparaging all things muggle had formed whose most extreme excesses had ultimately given rise to Voldemort.

'_Lucius was once again far too rash. I agree that the Muggle Protection Act should be scrapped, but he went about it in absolutely the wrong way. He should have spoken quietly with the right people until he assembled enough votes. Well, I think I can still manage it.'_

People like Weasley seemed to regard muggles as harmless, good-natured zoo pets when they were anything but. Abraxas considered wizards superior to muggles, but that didn't mean he underestimated them. After all, humans were superior to animals. That didn't make a wolf or a poisonous snake harmless; you had to be careful how you dealt with them.

The Muggle Protection Act as a whole was little more than another power grab by the Ministry bureaucracy; which was probably the reason it found enough supporters in the first place. It was an old problem that the Ministry tried to get more and more influence over daily life while being incompetent at many rather important tasks. Well, Abraxas would hopefully be able to head off at least this attempt. As soon as he was mobile enough he would have to arrange for the children leaving Britain.

* * *

><p>"Daphne, Morag, I need your help with something that has to stay secret at all costs. How good is your occlumency?"<p>

Daphne exchanged a glance with Morag who had put her current book down. Draco had been unusually agitated ever since his friend Kevin had been petrified. Judging from his reactions he knew _something_ about what was going on, but the blond boy had not confided any of his friends in. Apparently that was to change. Inquiring after another's skill in occlumency was considered very rude under normal circumstances.

Morag was the first to answer. "I can hide small things, but I'm not very good overall."

"It's similar for me. I'm becoming pretty good at noticing subtle intrusions." Daphne added.

Draco nodded thoughtfully. He was obviously thinking very hard what to tell them. "Okay, that means I can tell you a little bit."

"What about Stephen?" Morag asked curiously.

"Unfortunately I know his father isn't teaching him the mind arts. I guess he thinks Stephen is too young. Anyway, I need to move something into another location in the castle, but it's too large to move for me alone and no one can see us, especially not the portraits. "

Daphne narrowed her eyes. "Does it have anything to do with this Heir of Slytherin business?"

Her blond friend seemed uncomfortable. "Indirectly. It should help me solve things. We aren't actually doing anything forbidden. Well, aside from being out after curfew. Please, don't ask me anything else if you aren't sure your mind is protected."

It was very difficult for Daphne to suppress her questions, but she trusted Draco to know best what to tell them. He obviously suspected the Heir business was somehow tolerated by the faculty and didn't want them to find out what he was doing. She knew both Dumbledore and Snape were skilled in the mind arts. Her family had warned her about them early, but it seemed as if almost everyone trusted Dumbledore not to abuse his privileges and skills. Since Snape was here and not in Azkaban on Dumbledore's word alone people assumed the old man would control him. Daphne was very wary of the Head of Slytherin House. She had overheard Uncle Liam boast of his Death Eater days and the greasy potions master featured in some rather gruesome stories. While she didn't like being near such a person evoking his ire would definitely be worse, so she kept her head down. Dumbledore was a slightly different matter. Her grandmother always said you could work with him if absolutely necessary, but never trust him.

Seeing Morag's accepting nod Daphne agreed to help Draco.

Several hours later she cursed herself for giving in so easy. Levitating a large wooden cabinet was hard work if you wanted to do it longer than a few seconds. She didn't have the slightest idea what Draco wanted with the thing. They had picked it up on the floor above Filch's office and were taking turns levitating it.

"Are we there yet?" Daphne asked when Morag once again took over.

"Soon. We have to avoid portraits." was Draco's reply.

That was very difficult since the damned things were nearly everywhere. Most seemed to be sleeping, but it was unwise to take chances. Sometimes Draco cast a spell she didn't recognize that made them invisible for a short time, but each application seemed to tax her friend greatly. Finally they arrived in an unremarkable short corridor and Draco called for a halt. For a moment he stared at a bare stone wall. Then he began tapping several stone blocks in a certain sequence. A second later the wall opened, revealing an empty room.

"Okay, that should do it. Thank you for your help." Draco said after they had deposited the cabinet inside the room.

"No problem, Draco. Will you ever tell us what this was about?" Daphne asked.

Draco shook his head. "Not anytime soon. It is better you don't know."

"If you think so." She was a bit disappointed, but Draco had warned them that he wouldn't reveal anything.

'_Well, at least I finally broke a rule. It would have been boring otherwise.'_

They were almost back to the point where they had to separate for their different common rooms when suddenly footsteps sounded from the corridor in front of them.

"Oh no, we have to get away quickly before he discovers us." Draco said.

"Get away from whom, Mr. Malfoy?" a voice asked from behind.

Whirling around, Daphne and her friends saw Professor Snape standing behind them.

'_He must have come out of one of the side corridors.'_

"Well, well. What do we have here? Students breaking curfew. What are you doing out of your beds at this hour?"

Daphne's mind went completely blank when she struggled to find a believable answer. She couldn't believe that they had forgotten to make up some pretext in case they were caught. Draco seemed to have similar problems.

Suddenly Morag grabbed Draco's hand and spoke up. "We visited the Dark tower, sir. Tonight there was a shower of shooting stars. It was a very romantic sight."

In that moment Daphne realized what Morag was doing. Considering their position in the castle that was believable and Professor Sinistra had told them about the shooting stars. Since it was cold inside the castle they all wore their thick winter robes. Deciding to play along she took Draco's other hand. She actually didn't have to fake the blush that spread over her face. "That's right, sir."

Snape gave them no indication if he actually believed them. "I see. Unfortunately for you that is no excuse, Miss MacDougal. Five points from Slytherin and ten from Ravenclaw for breaking curfew. Each of you will serve a detention with me; separately of course."

Wisely none of them voiced any objections. In that moment Filch arrived. Apparently it had been his footsteps they had heard. The man was huffing and puffing and didn't manage to get a word out, but his glare spoke volumes.

"I have this well in hand, Argus. You can go back to patrolling." Snape said in a commanding tone.

Filch eyed them for a moment, but backed off. Without speaking a word he disappeared down another corridor. Snape first delivered Draco and Morag to the Ravenclaw dormitory before he led Daphne down to the dungeons. He didn't speak one word the entire time and it was beginning to freak Daphne out. Only when they arrived before the Slytherin common room did he ask a question.

"Aren't you a trifle young to make any moves on young Mr. Malfoy, Miss Greengrass?"

"He is a very eligible bachelor, sir. Getting into things early might make the difference in the end." Daphne answered.

Professor Snape looked at her with calculating eyes. "I suppose so. Try to be more discreet. I will keep this to myself. This time. Don't let me catch you again, Miss Greengrass."

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir."

'_That was a close call. I really hope it was worth it.' _Daphne thought when the door of the Slytherin common room closed behind her. They had gotten off lightly, probably because Snape was loath to severely punish one of his Slytherins and his godson, even if he and Draco weren't close and barely talked outside of lessons. Since the last attack was already several weeks past the usual nightly activities had picked up again, especially among the upper years. Hopefully that would be the end of it.

* * *

><p>"I can't tolerate it any longer, Albus. Even half of his own house has turned against the poor boy. I will interfere, either with your blessing or without." Professor Pomona Sprout ended her tirade.<p>

The Headmaster simply looked at her, obviously thinking of an answer. She really didn't understand the man anymore. Ever since that sorry business with the Heir of Slytherin had started more and more students had turned against Harry Potter, but Albus didn't allow any of the faculty to do something about it. He was of the opinion that it would sort itself out. Then there was the matter of the petrified students. They should have been brought to St. Mungo's, not kept in the castle. Mandrake restorative draught was expensive at this time of the year, but they didn't have to wait until her batch at the school matured. The worst thing was that she felt as if she had this conversation before.

Suddenly Professor Sprout noticed that she could no longer move a muscle. Only when Albus stood up did she see the wand in his hand. His face wore an expression of sorrowfulness she had rarely seen before.

"I'm deeply sorry, Pomona, but I can't allow this. For Harry to fulfill his destiny he has to learn certain things. The making of a hero requires hardship. He is our only hope. I would ask for your forgiveness, but I don't think you will give it to me." He sighed heavily. "This is the seventh time already. Minerva is so much easier to handle. Obliviate!"

…

Professor Sprout blinked. She felt as if she had missed something, but the Headmaster didn't seem fazed.

"Thank you for your report on the mandrakes, Pomona. If there isn't anything else… ?"

Something was niggling at the back of her mind, but it just wouldn't come to her. Perhaps she would remember it later. "No, this is all. Thank you for your time, Albus."

* * *

><p>Abraxas' face was filled with worry when he closed the book. The enchanted diary was the stuff of nightmares. Many of the spells involved went right over his head. He wasn't really an enchanter or curse breaker; his working knowledge in those subjects would be best described as a patchwork. Oh, he knew enough to get by, but normally he would hire specialists for such a task. Even in his time as unsavory adventurer he had other people to take care of those aspects, but he didn't think he could involve specialists for this. There would be too many questions asked.<p>

One conclusion he had made from the memories Draco had left behind was that Voldemort had made several horcruxes. The diary was obviously a failed one judging from the spells he saw; that meant there had to be more since Voldemort was still in this world.

Besides being an horcrux the diary was so heavily enchanted that he saw no way to safely neutralize it. Oh, destroying it would be relatively easy with something like fiendfyre, but there would be a terrible mental backlash. He didn't care for the Weasley family one bit, but the girl was innocent and a pureblood. Condemning little girls to insanity or death wasn't something he enjoyed. He couldn't let the diary continue with what it was doing, though.

Then an idea emerged. _'Perhaps I don't have to. The vile thing controls the girl, but if I can unravel the hooks in the girl's mind it should be enough. The mind arts are one of my fortes, after all.'_

It certainly bore thinking about. He would have to examine the connection on the girl's end before he could come up with a solution. Draco would have to complete his work on the cabinet beforehand, of course.

* * *

><p>'<em>Finally finished.'<em> Draco thought when he observed his handiwork. The cabinet was finally repaired and the first test had been successful. It had taken him longer than expected; the first week of February was already drawing to a close. Now he only had to abduct Ginny complete with the diary without anyone noticing.

'_I wish I could do something about Harry.'_

Despite his best efforts a large part of the student population had turned against Harry. Draco was trying to act as a moderating voice, but he didn't dare to draw too much attention. Another compulsion from Dumbledore was to be avoided at all costs.

'_Dumbledore will be away to a session of the Wizengamot next Saturday; I will strike then.'_

* * *

><p>Ginny soundlessly screamed inside her head to no avail. She couldn't do anything and was a helpless prisoner in her own body. Her mind felt as if it had split in two since the middle of December. There was a real-Ginny that she self-identified with and there was a stupid-Ginny. If the diary wasn't directly steering her actions stupid-Ginny was in control. All ambition and ability to really think seemed to have been stripped from stupid-Ginny; the bloody imbecile was the perfect picture of a stupid, helpless girl. All the sneakiness and desire to really better herself was gone, replaced by an incredible gullibility. The brain-dead chit even believed Tom to be her friend.<p>

Despite all the suspicious things like waking with blood on her hands (from killing roosters) stupid-Ginny didn't tell anyone about it. Her greatest fear was to be expelled. Their mind was taken over and the idiot feared leaving school. Before the split real-Ginny had tried to tell other people, but apparently constantly suppressing her will had become too much bother for the diary. As far as she could tell stupid-Ginny didn't have access to all their memories, not that it made much difference. At least now real-Ginny stayed awake during the time Tom took completely over.

Currently her body was walking through a deserted corridor. It was early Saturday morning. Stupid-Ginny had a predictable schedule and would spend the day mostly out of sight in one of the unused towers, writing even more in the diary.

Suddenly Ginny noticed the reflection of a red light in one of the suits of armor lining the hallway. Before she could react she felt something collide with her back and slumped to the ground.

The spell didn't seem to have hit properly; Ginny could hardly move but was still conscious. From where she had landed she could see a door opening and a familiar platinum-blond boy entering the corridor. When Draco approached her he seemed to realize that she wasn't completely out.

"Sorry about this, Ginny. I hope we can help you. Stupefy!"

The last thing she saw was a red light approaching her.

* * *

><p>Fenrir Greyback sullenly stared into his beer jug. The notorious werewolf was in a bad mood. Not only tasted the beer like piss but his young and tender prey had escaped him on his last hunt. To make matters worse his money was running out. Times after the Dark Lord's fall had been bad, setting him back enormously in his task of building a werewolf army. Voldemort had paid well for the services of Fenrir and his pack. Well, the lack of funds was the reason why he was in this ramshackle little tavern in the middle of nowhere and drinking beer that easily could have been horse piss. The only other patrons were a drunken hag and three mountain trolls; which was fitting considering the barkeeper was a river troll.<p>

'_At least my contact is on time.'_ Fenrir thought when a cloaked figure entered the door. After a short stop to orient itself the figure headed to his table. Fenrir recognized the half-concealed flick of an unidentifiable wand. A moment later the noise from the wind and the other occupants of the bar died out.

"Good day, Mr. Greyback."

"There's nothing good about the day."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that. As long as a day isn't over there is always potential, wouldn't you agree?" A large bag appeared from between the folds of the cloak and was set on the table. "My, it seems I have misplaced my money bag. Whatever shall I do?"

Fenrir took the back and looked into it. It was filled with golden galleons; several hundred by his estimate. "What is my job?" he gruffly asked.

"I'm not hiring you for anything, Mr. Greyback. What I do is merely pointing out that it would be fortunate if a certain individual meets an untimely end. It just so happens that I lost my purse containing four times your usual fee." The cloaked figure slid over a parchment. "Currently that person is too well protected, but there will be opportunities in the future. Something is already being arranged. Be warned, though, this person is very dangerous."

'_Wizards and their bullshit.'_ Fenrir thought while he perused the parchment. He knew why the contact was so circumspect; he was a savage but he wasn't an idiot. People like his contact tried to get as much deniability as possible if they were ever interrogated. Still, he had worked with the man for over a decade and his word and money were always good. When he reached the name on the parchment a vicious smile stole over his face. He would enjoy this one. Killing one of those high and mighty pureblood lords and tasting their blood was a rare treat, even if this one was probably all bony and stringy because of his age.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Nothing much to say this time besides thanks for all the reviews. So long.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 9**

Ginny didn't know what was happening to her. She couldn't feel her body. Her thoughts moved at a snail's pace and mostly dissolved before she finished them. She had no idea of her surroundings and couldn't see anything; it was like she was floating in a dark void. The only things that pierced the haze were two voices; one young and one old. She thought the young voice sounded familiar although she couldn't place it and was unable to understand the words. Panic began to set in, but then a memory slid into place.

'_Red light… a stunner… Draco said he would help me…'_

In the next moment someone began poking around in her mind. It was a disconcerting feeling. She already knew the sensation from what the diary had done to her, but this was different. The diary mainly used brute force, not caring about the damage it did to her mind. Whoever was doing it now was very precise and careful, gently tugging here and softly prodding there.

After an indefinite amount of time the feeling changed. Now random memories were dredged up from the depths of her mind and began playing before her eyes. The memories ranged from insignificant to highly embarrassing. Soon enough the exploration of memories was replaced again by the prodding and vice versa, sometimes with breaks between them. The voices sounded more concerned and agitated. Once again Ginny was completely unable to tell how much time passed.

When the latest break ended she felt pressure built up on her mind. The pressure was at first merely uncomfortable but soon developed into pain in ever increasing intensity. She could feel other intrusions, straining and poking. Finally pain filled her perception completely, blotting out all other thoughts and sensations. There was more pain than Ginny had thought possible to feel; an ocean, an entire world of white-hot pain. She felt as if she was being ripped apart. If she had been able to feel or control her body she would have screamed. Unfortunately, she had been unable to do such a thing for months and had to settle for screaming mentally.

Without any transition the pain disappeared and she found herself back in her body. Taking in her surroundings, Ginny saw she was in a sparsely decorated room with stone walls. She was sitting in some sort of chair. A totally exhausted looking old man who bore some resemblance to Draco was sitting in another ornately carved chair facing hers, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. Draco himself was standing close and looked directly at her with a worried expression, his mouth opening and closing. It took a moment for the still woozy girl to make sense of the words.

"… you hear me, Ginny?"

"Yes." she managed to get out in a slightly slurred voice, but she was recovering fast. Somehow her mind felt strange, though.

Relief spread across Draco's face. "Good. Can you move?"

In response Ginny raised her right arm. Then she blinked. She hadn't been able to move her body after her own will for months. This had to be a dream. Bringing her hand close to her face, she wriggled her fingers. The phenomenon persisted.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked.

Ginny redirected her gaze from her hand to the blond boy. "I'm free." she said in a dazed voice.

She still couldn't believe it and didn't really pay any attention to what Draco was saying next. The boy fell silent when she stood up and tested her range of movement. No resistance, no overwhelming mental pressure compelled her to take certain actions or prevented her from taking certain others. Her mind still felt strained, raw and somehow strange, but she could deal with that later.

Slowly realization came. The nightmare had finally ended. The diary had no more power over her. Tears began to fall as the emotional impact hit her. She had been saved from a fate worse than death; saved by Draco Malfoy and who she guessed to be his grandfather. Not by Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, hero of her childhood and countless bedtime stories told by her mother. Not by her brothers who hadn't even noticed something was deeply wrong with her. Not by the famous Albus Dumbledore, the man both her father and mother swore could do no wrong. Neither had the teaching staff noticed anything. No, the ones who had saved her belonged to a family her own family considered hopelessly dark and among the worst of the wizarding world.

Giving in to a sudden, overwhelming urge Ginny jumped at Draco and hugged him tightly, burying her face in his chest. "Thank you, thank you, thank you…"

* * *

><p>Abraxas slowly got his breathing under control while watching his grandson's predicament with amusement. The girl didn't look as if she would let go anytime soon, not that he could blame her for it. She was sobbing uncontrollably in relief and held on tightly while Draco awkwardly patted her back. Abraxas had seen a great deal of young Ginevra's memories. Living trapped inside her own head during the last months had been a living nightmare for her. Frankly, it was a miracle that the girl was still sane. If they had gotten any later to her it might have been too late. Even so it had taken him almost the whole day to analyze the problem and find a solution.<p>

A quick Tempus charm showed him that they still had some time before Draco and Ginevra would have to return to Hogwarts. If they could have risked keeping her away from the castle for more than a day Abraxas would have done so. Unfortunately, with things as they were he had been forced to employ rougher measures than he preferred to root out the diary's mental hooks in young Ginevra's mind. The vile thing had already done some damage and his solution had strained the girl's mind further. He wasn't sure if there would be any long-term consequences and would have to do some more examinations in the following days.

He had learned confirmed another thing while exploring the girl's memories: Draco had been right. There simply was no way Dumbledore hadn't identified the culprit by now. The deceased Myrtle combined with the place of the first attack this time around was a dead giveaway for anyone who knew about the last opening of the chamber in the 40's. Abraxas had been busy with the fight against Grindelwald at the time, but even he had heard the rumors. Heck, this Halloween's incident alone would have been enough to place some subtle alarm wards. No, the esteemed Headmaster let things continue for reasons of his own.

'_Well, it is certainly ammunition for my planned public attack on Dumbledore this summer. It should help me gain custody of Harry.'_

Abraxas decided to give the girl a few more minutes. He could use some more rest, too. The hour-long work had taxed him greatly; his health while improving was still poor. At the current time he couldn't even walk unassisted and mostly used his floating chair to get around in the house. Instead of addressing the girl he settled on watching the pair.

By now Ginevra's sobs had mostly subsided. It seemed his grandson was good at consoling girls; from what he had heard it had been Draco who kept Aquila going after Cassie's death and his own illness. In a few years he would probably develop into quite the heart-breaker. Abraxas had been surprised when he found the memories of Ginevra's previous contact with his grandchildren, but he didn't mind too much. Cultivating contacts and even friends in other social classes could come in useful. You could get some quite loyal retainers that way. He had barely been able to suppress laughter when he had witnessed Draco's and Ginevra's first accidental kiss. Narcissa would indeed have a heart attack if she ever learned of that event.

If he hadn't been planning on removing his grandson from the country in a few months he might have been slightly worried that something more might develop between them, but even in that event he wouldn't have interfered at this point. Draco knew his duties. The Hogwarts years were the opportunity to break one's horns. Abraxas himself had been quite wild in his youth and wouldn't begrudge his grandson the opportunity to get some experience and enjoy himself. Marriage was often a matter of political necessity, not affection. Abraxas had been lucky enough that he and his late wife had liked each other well enough, but there was no guarantee it would be the same for Draco. Both Abraxas' own parents had kept paramours. As long as an heir of Malfoy blood was produced to continue the family it was unimportant what lovers or mistresses existed on the side.

Finally Abraxas decided he had given Ginevra enough time to regain her composure and loudly cleared his throat.

Upon hearing this, Draco nodded and gently shook her. When she looked up he gestured in Abraxas' direction. "Ginny, this is my grandfather Abraxas Malfoy. He was the one to free you."

The girl turned her head in his direction without letting go of Draco. "Thank you so very much. I thought I would never escape."

Abraxas gave the girl a gentle smile. It seemed she was still a bit out of it, but there were some matters to discuss. "Don't mention it, young lady. No one should be subjected to that. If you have any urgent questions now is the time to ask them. You two have to return to Hogwarts soon."

Ginevra thought for a moment. "Am I truly free now? Do you know what the diary is? What would have happened to me?"

"You should be safe. I completely removed all influence the diary held over you. I apologize for the pain involved, but there was no other way." The old man nodded gravely and gestured to the diary resting on a side table. "It is one vile piece of dark magic. I don't believe you need to know the details, but suffice to say it would have killed you before long."

"What happened to stupid-Ginny?" was the noticeably paler girl's second question.

Abraxas needed a moment to understand her meaning. "You mean the mind that was in control? Is that what you called it?"

Ginevra nodded. "She was mostly me, but stupid and with important parts missing. I could hear her thinking, but she could never hear me."

He sighed. "I had to destroy it. It was a construct made from your memories and mind, but separate from your consciousness. I'm not completely sure what is left of it; your mind is currently too raw to risk further intrusions on my part. You will have to visit me again so I can make sure."

Judging from the expression on the girl's face she didn't really comprehend his answers, but that was no wonder after what she had been through. Well, he would have to explain again tomorrow. Fortunately Dumbledore would be away again. Thankfully the schedule for Wizengamot sessions and the International Confederation of Wizards was easily accessible for someone in Abraxas' position.

"When I tell my family…"

"No." Abraxas said forcefully.

Ginevra stopped and looked at him with big, somewhat fearful eyes.

Abraxas fixed her with a serious look. "You can't tell anyone, and I mean absolutely anyone, about this. Not your brothers or classmates, not your parents, not my granddaughter and certainly not the faculty."

"But Professor Dumbledore…"

"The headmaster almost certainly already knows." Draco interjected.

"What!?" After her outburst Ginny looked disbelievingly between Draco and Abraxas.

The old man nodded grimly. "There is no doubt about it. He would have to be utterly incompetent not to figure things out by this point. This isn't the first time the chamber was opened and he was already a professor when it happened last. The girl Myrtle died at that time. How difficult do you think would it be for a wizard of Dumbledore's skill to set up some subtle surveillance in and around the bathroom? After all, the caretaker's cat was attacked there. Or around the dorm exits? No child, the headmaster knows and allows things to continue."

If Ginevra hadn't been still in Draco's grip she would have fallen. Her face was ashen and she swayed dangerously. "He… he knew and simply let me suffer?"

"Albus Dumbledore is not above sacrificing people for his plans, child. I've known him for a long time and he is far from being the flawless hero many want to see him as. There is no telling what he might do if he learns of your freedom."

It took almost an hour for Ginny to calm down. The girl was still badly shaken, but Abraxas thought they had convinced her not to tell anyone. Normally he would have preferred making sure, but considering the state of the girl's mind he couldn't risk any further mental influence. It might permanently damage her and he hadn't spent almost a day to save her mind only to undo all that effort with an ill-timed spell.

After the girl and his grandson left Abraxas looked thoughtfully at the diary. He wasn't sure what to do about the vile thing. He would have liked to destroy it at first opportunity (he was perfectly capable of conjuring fiendfyre and had access to secure rooms, after all), but that might not be the best option. No, until they dealt with the basilisk for good he would keep it intact. In fact, it might be best if Ginevra kept it with her as soon as she recovered enough. It wouldn't do for Dumbledore to discover that it was missing. As long as Ginevra didn't write in it there was no possibility of another possession. It would be hard on the girl, though.

'_I have to think things over carefully.'_

* * *

><p>Ginny looked out of the window of the empty classroom, not really seeing anything. The sun had begun to shine weakly on Hogwarts again, but it would be a long time till the winter left the Scottish mountains. Little more than a week had passed since she had been freed from the cursed diary's influence and she still had trouble coming to grips with her situation.<p>

Her own mind was surprisingly intact after what happened, but she didn't escape unscathed. Many memories from her time under the diary's influence were distorted and her thought processes seemed to be different than before. According to Draco's grandfather the damage could be fixed over time. The old man was kind towards her even if he was an imposing figure and she was a bit scared of him. She had only been able to leave the castle two more times to see him, but Draco was teaching her mental exercises she could use on her own. Judging from how her mind felt the exercises were slowly working and she was even learning proper occlumency along the way.

Still, it would be a long time before all traces of the possession would be erased. Not everything was negative, though. Stupid-Ginny was dead, but she had left something behind. Ginny didn't understand the theory behind it and even Draco's grandfather had been surprised when he discovered it on her last visit. The husk of the second personality's mind rested _on top_ and _before_ (insofar as such descriptions were applicable) her real mind. It was the primary reason that Ginny still felt strange. The surprising thing was that she could make it look like as if the false mind was the real mind; apparently a legilimens had to dig very deep to discover the truth. Draco's grandfather had only realized it because he was intimately familiar with her mind because of the effort of freeing her. After a year or two it would merge with her true mind if she kept up her exercises. In the meantime it offered her some urgently needed protection against her thoughts being read by the Headmaster.

'_It's really hard to believe something like that of Professor Dumbledore. Mum and Dad are always full of praise for him.'_

Ginny sighed. She really didn't know what to believe. All her life Albus Dumbledore had been presented as the very symbol of the Light and now she was supposed to regard him as a villain and enemy. The young girl wasn't sure if she could manage that. She yearned to speak with someone about her ordeal, but aside from Draco there was no one she could trust if Dumbledore really was evil. During the last days she had been severely tempted to talk with her brothers and reveal everything. She never went through with it. After all, she had promised. There was another reason, though.

A slight scowl appeared on her face when she was reminded of her anger. She wasn't sure if she would ever be able to forgive her brothers for not noticing anything wrong with her. It was probably unfair, but her true self might as well have died without them ever realizing it. Her year mates didn't know her well enough to discern strange behavior. Her brothers were another matter. It was a secret rift that had appeared between them and Ginny didn't know how it would influence their future relationship.

'_It's been five minutes since Draco left. I guess it's time to head out. I don't want to be late to class.'_

Finding the time to meet with Draco in secret wasn't exactly easy, but it was possible. Under the diary's influence she had spent large amounts of time alone and now simply continued in that vein. Grabbing her book bag, Ginny left the room that had served as meeting area. The weight reminded her that she had something with her that she hoped to never see again: The cursed diary was riding in her bag. She hated having the thing with her, but both Draco and his grandfather insisted. Ginny wasn't sure if she believed them. Still, both had helped her and knew what they were doing.

Draco was undoubtedly her hero, even if he said he wasn't one. He had certainly the right looks for the role of shining knight. A warm feeling spread through Ginny when she thought of him. She didn't think she had a crush on him like she had on Harry Potter, but it was an elevating feeling to know someone cared about her as a friend.

A noticeable skip entered her step upon these thoughts and the day simply seemed to fly by. Ginny was still in a good mood when she was about to head to Gryffindor tower on the evening. She was just passing through an empty corridor when a voice stopped her.

"Miss Weasley, a word if you please."

Surprised, Ginny turned around and came face to face with the Headmaster. "Sir?"

The old man gave her a sad smile. "I apologize for what I'm about to do, but unfortunately it is necessary."

Before Ginny was able to react a barely visible spell of light pink color hit her. Confusion engulfed her for a moment, but then everything became clear. The headmaster was her best friend and she would do anything for him. At the same time she realized that was completely wrong, but she couldn't control her actions anymore.

'_No, no, no, no! Not again!'_

"Do you still have the diary with you, Ginevra?" the aged wizard asked after a moment.

"I have it in my bag."

Dumbledore nodded ponderously. "Good. Tell no one about this. Throw the diary into the toilet haunted by Moaning Myrtle. Then return to me. Can you do that?"

Ginny felt herself nod. It didn't take long at all to head to Myrtle's bathroom and dispose of the diary. She even managed to get out of the room before a screaming Myrtle emerged, flooding the bathroom in the process. Despite her efforts to resist the compulsion she returned to the waiting Dumbledore.

"Did you encounter any problems?" She shook her head. The headmaster sighed deeply and looked at her from sorrowful eyes. "I apologize once again. Enduring this must be hard for you, I know, but there is no other choice. A hero is required to rid us of the darkness. It is for the good of everyone. You will only remember you finally wanted to rid yourself of the diary so that it could endanger no one else. Obliviate!"

Memories were erased and new ones slid into place… in her false mind. As soon as Dumbledore was out of view she felt the compulsion fade, but Ginny continued walking. She couldn't risk him still watching her. Filch's screaming about the mess Myrtle had caused faintly reached her ears, but that wasn't important now.

Ginny's nails dug painfully into her palms. The headmaster had put her under a compulsion and then obliviated her. He knew everything about the diary. Her worldview had already received some heavy blows this year, but now it crumbled altogether. She felt tears welling in her eyes. Dumbledore was evil. Everything she had been taught by her family about the world was a lie.

'_I have to tell Draco. He will know what to do.'_

* * *

><p>Daphne watched in amusement as Charms class was once again interrupted by one of the dwarves delivering another valentine message. Wearing golden wings and holding a harp in his hands the surly-looking heavily-muscled dwarf made a ridiculous image. The dozen 'cupids' must have fallen on very hard times indeed for them to take this job. The blond Slytherin idly wondered where that fool Lockhart had found them. There weren't very many dwarves left, at least in Britain proper. Most had been killed in one of the many Goblin Wars. The last mountain hall had been destroyed more than a century ago.<p>

The normally good-natured Professor Flitwick glared at the dwarf after he had delivered his message, but the stocky creature simply shrugged helplessly before leaving the room. They wouldn't do anything that would endanger their paycheck from Lockhart.

Flitwick cleared his throat. "As I was saying…"

The diminutive professor was once again interrupted by a dwarf entering the room. "Oy you! Daphne Greengrass! I've got a musical message to deliver!"

Making his way to her seat, the dwarf cleared his throat before he began singing.

"Her hair is made from spun gold,

I love her even if she always acts cold,

I wish she was mine,

she's really divine."

Daphne simply nodded and the dwarf scampered away. There had been several messages delivered to her already and she took it in stride. Despite the ludicrousness of the situation it wouldn't do to lose her composure. Besides, the dwarves could get really vicious if you tried to resist. She knew she was developing and boys began noticing her.

'_Probably another second or third year student. I'm really glad my friends are high-class enough to refrain from such things.'_

Her dwarf had barely left the room when another entered; this one headed for Draco. Her friend had already received over a dozen valentines; three less than her. He was good-looking and popular, after all, and had cultivated a good reputation of helpfulness. It seemed many girls were enamored with him; or perhaps with his family's money and status if one had a cynical disposition.

After the short being left the room the attention shifted back to the professor. Flitwick didn't look like he would continue the lesson, though. He had taken out a book and was reading. 'Class canceled because of cupid infestation' was written on the blackboard. The students began muttering and looking at each other in confusion. Was Flitwick serious?

Blaise Zabini was the one to ask the question. "Is the class really cancelled, Professor?"

Professor Flitwick looked up from his book. "Yes, I'm not trying to teach you potentially dangerous spells when we will be interrupted at every turn. Just go and try to study somewhere quiet; if you can find such a place that is." He returned to reading his book after that.

The first students gathered their things and headed out of the room, but most were actually sad about the class being cancelled. Flitwick was a very good teacher and his classes always interesting. Daphne was just leaving when she noticed Draco lagging behind.

"Hey, are you okay?" Daphne asked.

He waved her off. "I'm alright."

Daphne was pretty sure Draco wasn't alright, but she had absolutely no idea what the reason was. This morning he had been fine. That changed after the lunch break. He had left for only a few minutes, but when he returned he seemed angry about something. His mood had taken another dive when Potter was accosted by one of the dwarves. It had been a reminder that it was better to endure bad poetry than try to escape the inevitable (and get hurt in the process). Perhaps he was just frustrated about the entire event, but there seemed to be something more.

'_Someday I will find out what is going on here.'_

* * *

><p>Draco looked at his grandfather. The old man looked wide awake despite the late hour and appeared to be deep in thought. "Are you sure about this?"<p>

He nodded. "Harry definitely has the diary now. I saw it among his things when one of those dwarves tackled him."

Abraxas sighed. "To summarize, Dumbledore compelled Ginny to dispose of the diary and it turned up in Harry's hands. What are your conclusions?"

"I think Dumbledore tries to engineer a confrontation. From what Ginny said he wants to form Harry into a hero. It's always the hero who confronts the evil, often without the help from anyone. I know it's ridiculous, but that's the most likely conclusion. Another possibility is that he hopes that Harry will somehow destroy the diary. According to the stories he did defeat Voldemort somehow, after all."

"I agree. Someone like Dumbledore would likely hesitate to use effective solutions like fiendfyre because it is seen as dark magic. I don't know what books he has access to, but he might completely misinterpret what a horcrux is and how to deal with one." Abraxas stroked his beard in thought before he looked at Draco. "How do you propose to solve this problem?"

It had become a frequent occurrence that his grandfather asked Draco how to proceed instead of simply giving commands. He always critiqued his course of action before they settled on something. Draco knew that his grandfather was preparing him to deal with things when he would be no longer around. There were only a few months left. Even if they were successful in leaving the country Abraxas wouldn't be around very long. Considering Aquila's and Harry's mentality it would fall to Draco to care for them and defend their interests.

Draco had already thought of an answer. "We must reacquire the diary at first opportunity and destroy it. There's no telling what it might do to Harry. Then we have to deal with the basilisk. Lastly, we somehow need to convince Dumbledore that the confrontation has taken place. Do we have any magic items or spells that can help with that?"

Abraxas thought for almost five minutes. "I think I have a solution. Come along, Draco."

With a grunt of effort Abraxas stood up and left the room. Draco followed behind. His grandfather was able to walk again, but he still required a walking stick. Its clacking on stone was the only sound in the underground complex. It wasn't the only secret hideout on the Malfoy lands. This one wasn't quite as secure as the one where the Malfoy heart stone rested; it was more of a storage area. Neither Draco nor his grandfather had wanted to place the vanishing cabinet too close to their family's greatest treasure and possibly compromise the security. On the other hand, the manor was unsuitable, too. They had settled on this place instead.

It was here in these vaults that the Malfoys kept the main part of their monetary wealth and artifacts acquired over the years. No old family (or anyone with a smidgen of sense) trusted the Goblins. Sure, everyone had vaults at Gringotts to make doing business easier, but they contained only part of their money and certainly no valuable artifacts. In the event of another Goblin war their losses would be bearable.

Draco's father knew about this place, but he didn't have access to all areas or even knew they existed. Abraxas didn't trust Lucius to use them responsibly. Draco had to agree. If Voldemort rose again Lucius would be only too happy to buy his favor anew with money and artifacts. His grandfather had given Draco full access but warned against exploring on his own. Some objects could be quite dangerous.

Suddenly Abraxas turned to the side and traced a geometric figure on a specific stone. A moment later the wall slid to the side, revealing a mid-sized room filled with countless objects. Draco looked around curiously. He already knew that this was the place where his grandfather kept most of the things he had acquired on his adventures in the Middle East during his youth. There were over two dozen chests, several carpets, more than three hundred books and countless other objects.

"I'm sure it is here somewhere…" Abraxas muttered.

Draco used the time to peruse the books. Unfortunately they weren't written in any language he could read. Most had notes sticking to them giving an overview over the contents. It was certainly an interesting mix. Before its collapse in the nineteenth century the Diamond Sultanate had been one of the foremost magical powers in the world. Unfortunately for them they had been wedged between the African Confederation and the Mage Moguls , the other two main players. Well, if you didn't count the necromancers of Australia, but they were very isolationist. Since neither major player was willing to advance in fear of triggering an all-out war the region had been left alone, making it a prime opportunity for adventurous wizards.

Britain and Europe in comparison were unimportant. They weren't what a muggle would think of as third world, but they were decidedly second-tier if even that. The Grindelwald war in particular had done heavy damage to the magical population, but even before that the wizards of Europe had never possessed the same prominence their muggle counterparts held. Well, it wasn't as if the muggle countries and magical countries matched anyway. You had only to look at a muggle political map of the seventeenth century when the statute of secrecy came into force, not that this was truly representative of the magical countries either.

'_It would probably be very funny to watch when a muggleborn realizes that there exist no magical United States and the entire continent of North America is more a lawless patchwork of clans, miniature kingdoms and warlords of all sorts.'_

It was a disconnect that wasn't really addressed at Hogwarts; most of the historical focus was on Europe in general and Britain in particular.

Abraxas voice interrupted Draco's introspection. "Ah, here it is."

Draco turned around and saw that his grandfather was levitating a big amphora. Looking closely, he noticed that the entire surface was covered in a flowing script that seemed to form complex patterns. "What is it, Grandfather?"

"This artifact is the solution to the problem of staging a proper confrontation. I acquired it from the ruins of the winter palace of the Diamond Sultan. It is called a phantasmagoricon. Originally it was used for entertainment purposes, similar to a theater. You have to detail a scene or story. Later it will pull the audience in, making it as if they live the fantasy. It combines mind magic with illusions and is completely convincing if you don't know beforehand what it does." Abraxas proudly explained.

The blond boy looked at the amphora with new respect. "That seems very useful. I can see all sorts of applications for such a powerful magic item. Why didn't you use it before?"

Abraxas shook his head sadly. "Because we can only use it a few times more, perhaps only once. The knowledge of its creation has been lost. None of the enchanters I consulted could figure out how it worked. Oh, they did learn how to use it, but not how to recharge the artifact. Incidentally, I did use it during the Grindelwald war to great effect, but it isn't really a weapon. The amphora is very fragile and needs to be carefully set up beforehand."

Draco nodded in understanding. One of a kind artifacts like that turned up from time to time, usually as the lifework of a master enchanter or from foreign countries that had different magic knowledge. Most often they disappeared somewhere in the Department of Mysteries, never to be seen again.

"I will have to teach you how to use it, Draco. As for the basilisk… I think a visit to a muggle scrap yard is in order, but that part can be handled by one of my bailiffs. A little transfiguration and a shrinking charm and a featherweight charm will be all that is necessary. The snake will soon be a thing of the past. I'll want to see the memories of that, of course"

The grin that accompanied these words sent shudders along Draco's spine.

* * *

><p>"Are you sure this is the right place, Ginny?"<p>

Ginny nodded. "Yes. I only remember now, but there is another entrance to the Chamber here. I only used it once."

She watched as Draco carefully examined the alcove. It was in an out-of-the-way spot, probably the reason the diary only brought her here once. More than a month had passed since she had been freed and it was now March. Her mind was much better now, but every week Dumbledore would cast a compulsion to ignore the diary on her. Apparently the old man thought she was still under the vile thing's sway. Most of the times she didn't even see him do it. Thankfully she had learned to restrict those compulsions to her false mind, enabling her to act against them if she had to. Unfortunately they had found no way to steal back the diary from Harry. She feared what it would do to him.

Now though there was another problem. They couldn't use the main entrance to the Chamber of Secrets to take care of the basilisk. Dumbledore was sure to keep it under tight watch. It had taken her a lot of effort to find the memory of another entrance, especially because she was still an absolute novice at occlumency. The basilisk had to get around somehow, after all. Another problem they had forgotten until today was that they didn't know if she retained the ability to use parseltongue. She certainly remembered using it, but that didn't mean she could reproduce the sounds. A magical language didn't work that way. She was sure she hadn't been able to talk to snakes before she encountered the diary, but it was possible it had left some part of the ability behind in her mind.

Then she saw that Draco had finished his examination. _'No time like the present.'_

"Wait a moment; I want to test something."

Ginny looked curiously at Draco. Then the boy simply hissed at the wall. She was about to ask him what he was doing when the wall rumbled aside. Ginny's eyes went wide at seeing that.

"What? How did you do that? Are you a parseltongue, too?"

Draco laughed. "No, I'm not. It was just a shot in the dark. Both Myrtle's bathroom and this alcove are much newer than thousand years. At least the bathroom is a very strange location to use. I'm not even sure they had such things at Slytherin's time and the entryway should have been found when they refurbished the room. Anyway, I wondered if not somebody else, possibly a past headmaster, discovered the chamber and simply kept it secret. He was probably the one who rebuilt the rooms. If he had helpers it would be awkward to have to open the entries each time personally or perhaps he couldn't replicate the parseltongue enchantment. Personally I would require a hissing sound combined with an intention-reading ward. That way only people who know about the chamber can enter."

Ginny was a bit skeptical about that explanation. It sounded pretty far-fetched, but she couldn't argue with the results. _'I think Draco knows more than he lets on, but now isn't the time to ask him.'_

They were just about to enter the hole in the wall when Ginny heard it.

"_Kill this time… let me rip… tear…"_

"DRACO, WATCH OUT! THE BASILISK IS LOOSE! IT'S COMING!" She had completely forgotten that she hadn't commanded the basilisk to go to sleep again. It had probably roamed the tunnels the entire time; there was an enchantment on the chamber that drew forest animals down into the lair to feed the basilisk if it was active.

Upon hearing her shout Draco had turned halfway around. In the next moment he was shoved out of the way by a massive snake. Ginny managed to press herself against the sidewall to avoid the same fate.

"_Not harm people with speaker…" _she heard before the basilisk disappeared around a corner.

"We have to catch up with it! Command it to go back to sleep!" Draco shouted when he stood up.

Ginny was already running after the basilisk, but the creature was fast. When she turned the corner she saw that it had found its next victim. A girl she had occasionally seen talking with Percy was lying on the ground petrified, still holding a hand mirror in her left hand. A powder puff was held in her other hand. The basilisk was hovering above her, apparently unsure if it should eat the girl.

"_Cover your eyes! Go back to the chamber and sleep!" _Ginny screamed at the creature.

The immensely large snake turned around to look at her. Thankfully it had covered its eyes with nictitating membranes, sparing her from its deadly gaze.

"_Let me eat this one…"_

"_No. In the name of Salazar Slytherin: Do as I command. I'll be around to feed you later." _she said in the steadiest voice she could muster.

For a moment the basilisk seemed as if it wanted to ignore the command. Then it made a nodding motion and slithered in the direction of the open wall, passing by a terrified looking Draco in the process. It didn't attack him, though.

Ginny slumped in relief. When Draco arrived at her side she immediately hugged the startled boy. That encounter could have gone far worse.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Thanks for all the reviews.

Personally I find it unlikely that Ginny in canon was able to simply throw the diary away after being under its influence for five months. If such a thing was possible it would made the diary very poorly suited for its intended purpose (both draining the life from its victim and keeping control for opening the chamber).

Likewise, Ron imitating Parseltongue in the seventh book when he heard it only twice doesn't sit well with me. Magical language aside, try to imitate a word in a phonetically totally different language and you'll see what I mean. In my story someone opened the chamber a long time ago and replaced the enchantments on the entryways with something easier to use. Draco didn't know that it was done, but he suspected.


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 10**

Draco could feel his heart pounding wildly while he held a shaking Ginny close. They had almost died. The basilisk suddenly showing up had been completely unexpected. They had come _this_ close to ending up as snake food if Ginny hadn't been able to somehow command the basilisk to go back into the chamber. This was Draco's first encounter with direct, personal, life-threatening danger. It wasn't an experience he wanted to repeat anytime soon. None of the memories his other self had given him had really prepared him for something like this. Sure, he remembered being in life-threatening situations, but living through them was entirely different.

It seemed now that the danger was over the situation hit really home for Ginny. She had kept a cool head until the danger was over, but now she clutched him as if her life depended on it. Despite everything that had happened to her she still was an eleven year old girl, after all. Not that it was that much different for him in spite of all his extra knowledge and more mature mind. In some respects he really was a twelve year old boy. He probably gained as much comfort and reassurance from the embrace as Ginny.

After a minute his heartbeat slowed and his gaze wandered to the still, petrified form of the girl in front of them. He couldn't see her face, but he was pretty sure she was the Sixth Year Ravenclaw prefect Penelope Clearwater. She had been one of the two prefects responsible for the new Ravenclaw students when he started Hogwarts. The mirror and the small powder puff in her hands answered the question what she was doing in this normally abandoned section of the castle: She probably had been preparing herself for a meeting with her secret boyfriend Percy Weasley, although Draco didn't know why they tried to keep their relationship under wraps. A few weeks ago Draco had the misfortune of walking in on them when he searched for an empty room to practice some spells. Apparently they had thought of placing silencing charms, but forgotten to lock the door. Fortunately the couple had been so engaged in certain activities of a carnal nature that they had completely missed him. After a few moments of staring dumbly he had hurriedly left. Extracting himself from the embrace, he walked over and knelt down.

'_She's petrified just like the other victims. The basilisk probably knocked her over after his reflected gaze took effect.'_

"Is she alright? What do we do now?" Ginny asked, a slight trembling in her voice.

That was a difficult question. There wasn't anything they could do for Penelope, but they had bigger problems now. They couldn't risk exploring the chamber after what just happened. As soon as someone discovered the girl the corridor would be under surveillance, meaning they possibly wouldn't be able to exit the chamber without being discovered. If they used Myrtle's bathroom the wards Dumbledore had most assuredly placed would detect them leaving.

Draco sighed. Their plans would have to be postponed. "She's alive, but we can't help her. Our trip is cancelled; we can't risk entering the chamber now. Go back to your common room and make sure you're seen by people. I'll head to the library."

Ginny looked ready to burst into tears. "I'm sorry. I should have remembered that the basilisk was still running free."

He put a hand on Ginny's shoulder, looking directly into her eyes. "It isn't your fault, Ginny. I know this is difficult for you. Just continue doing the exercises Grandfather and I taught you. We'll find another way."

Nodding in acceptance, the girl turned around and disappeared in a direction that would take her to her usual reading spot. Draco made sure the entrance to the chamber was closed before he too left this area of the castle. This had certainly thrown in wrench in his plans.

Hopefully Ginny would remember another entrance; it was unlikely they would be able to use this one in light of Penelope's petrification. From what Draco knew Salazar Slytherin had been a paranoid man (with good reason; there had been a lot of people who wanted him dead). There would be at least half a dozen ways to reach the chamber. The question was how many of them Ginny had visited while she was under the influence of the diary. Well, he had to work with the situation as it was.

'_Life is not a chessboard. People are not pawns. They have a mind of their own and sometimes move unexpectedly. You can't control everything. The battlefield is neither a simple flat board nor can you view it in full or see all pieces. You are a piece as well as a player. So is everyone else.'_

It was a lesson Grandfather had repeated to him and his sister as long as he could remember. The memories of the other Draco agreed. Manipulating people and events correctly was very difficult and the exact outcome often unpredictable. The ideal was if all possible outcomes would be of benefit, but of course that was a rare situation. Having back-up plans (and back-ups to the back-ups) was an acceptable second-best course of action. In that vein Draco had begun scrying for other exits of the Chamber of Secrets as soon as he determined its location when he saw Ginny entering it. Unfortunately until now he had been unsuccessful; it was a veritable maze down there and between all the other tasks demanding his attention he hadn't found much time.

'_I guess I have to give it a higher priority.'_

That wasn't immediately important for the current situation, though. Draco would have to wait and see how things played out when the attack on Penelope was discovered.

Draco began to ponder another issue that had really come to his attention only in the last few days: Ginny wasn't well-integrated with her year-mates in Gryffindor or other houses. Due to the diary's influence she had become known as a loner. The cliques had already formed. If his grandfather succeeded in getting them out of the country it would leave Ginny completely alone. That could pose problems for Ginny's mental recovery and stability in the long run.

Aquila would only be too happy to spend more time with Ginny, but due to the traditional Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry and their family feud that wasn't possible; at least not without some Gryffindor friends backing her up. Unfortunately at least three of Ginny's four brothers currently at Hogwarts were rather violently anti-Slytherin (and especially anti-Malfoy). Besides, the leaving-the-country problem applied to his little sister, too.

Of course, he had already come up with a potential solution, but since he wasn't sure how it would pan out he hadn't done anything yet to implement it. Nosy friends could potentially hamper Ginny's ability to move around unhindered. On the other hand, delaying it wouldn't make things better. Since the exploration of the Chamber of Secrets was postponed for now he might as well speak with the person in question. He was already heading into the right direction anyway.

* * *

><p>Hermione Granger pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. "Didn't you listen to anything Professor Sinistra said, Ron? She wanted a detailed description of the motions of the inner planets as well as their satellites. This isn't even a quarter of the length required, not to mention you didn't even mention Mercury. It's due tomorrow afternoon. I already turned in mine."<p>

"You can fix it, right?"

"Sure, but…"

"Just give it to me on the evening, okay?"

"Wait, I…"

Unfortunately it was already too late; the redhead had left the library. Hermione closed her eyes and counted to ten. When that wasn't sufficient she simply continued counting. It took her until forty-three before she felt sufficiently calm to open her eyes. The offending piece of parchment was still lying on the table before her. She glared at it intensely for a minute, but it made no move to spontaneously combust. That had actually happened some time ago. It was the reason she counted until she was calm enough. Finally Hermione let out a deep, deep sigh.

'_I guess it can't be helped.'_

Hermione took the parchment into her hand to see if she could salvage anything from Ron's ramblings, not that her hopes were especially high. Originally she had stopped helping Ron with his assignments after the Charms Incident in their first year. The boy hadn't taken it well, but for a while their contact had been as minimal as she could make it considering they were in the same house and year. Unfortunately that had changed after the term ended. Ron's marks had taken a dive and several howlers from his mother arrived. Honestly, had the woman no sense of decorum? Humiliating Ron before the entire school wasn't a thing any parents who loved their children should do.

It had led to him seeking her out and asking for help in his unmatchable rude and thoughtless manner, but of course she had rebuffed him. Unfortunately it didn't end there. His brothers had gotten involved and the twins had a _talk_ with her. They had been very friendly when they pointed out that it would be very appreciated if she helped their brother like a good, loyal housemate would do. She had immediately acquiesced. You wanted to stay friends with George and Fred Weasley.

No one in their right mind went against the Terrible Twins, not in Gryffindor. People who did that had _things_ happen to them. Of course, it was only _harmless pranks_ with no indication who the perpetrators were… but everyone knew. Their academic record didn't show it, but Fred and George were positively brilliant in their chosen field. Some people might call it humor and pranks, but Hermione saw it for what it was: Bullying at its finest. Combined with their position and performance on the Gryffindor Quidditch team it made the twins untouchable by their peers. Even the upper years went in fear of them, not that they would ever admit it. Granted, they received more than their share of detentions, but that did nothing to dissuade them. Apparently Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall as well as some other teachers found them _funny._ In the end everyone laughed with them regardless of personal opinion and tried to stay on their good side.

Which was why Hermione found herself effectively doing Ron's homework at the latest possible moment… again. Honestly, if the lazy prat would just pay attention in class and invest a bit of effort he would be able to do just fine, but no, all that interested him was food, chess and Quidditch. He only studied up immediately before the end of term tests.

'_Well, he can afford to do that. After all, he has me to do his assignments.'_ Hermione thought acerbically while she put away the book she had been reading and retrieved the ones she needed for her new task.

The sun had moved a considerable distance when she finally finished the assignment. Ron would be able to copy that on his own.

'_And another morning gone.'_

Hermione returned to her own work, namely looking up some advanced material about transfiguration. Neville had trouble with some of the spells and she tried to find some alternate ways to make them work better for him. Ever since the Charms Incident they had been inseparable. Despite her somewhat… mercenary reasons for befriending him he was her first true friend. More importantly, she truly respected him. He had problems in several classes (not for lack of trying), but he truly shone in Herbology. Unfortunately she had unable to determine what the root of his problem was. Well, beside Snape being more a detriment to learning Potions than a help.

So immersed was she in her work that she didn't notice the presence of another person until a finger poked her in the shoulder. Hermione let out an undignified squeak, her hand knocking a book from the table. Turning around, she saw Draco standing besides the table, a smirk threatening to appear on his features.

"Please don't surprise me like that, Draco." she said, shaking her head in irritation.

Draco shrugged. "A good day to you, too. You didn't react when I called your name." He picked up the discarded book and looked at the title. "Interesting book, not many read it. Are you looking for something specific?"

Hermione hesitated a moment. She didn't especially want to talk about Neville's spell-casting problems with other people. On the other hand the blond boy seemed to be informed about most things going on in the castle and was a wellspring of knowledge. If anyone at their age knew something that could help Neville it would be Draco; or at least he would know whom to ask or what book to read.

Draco wasn't exactly a friend, more a friendly acquaintance. He studied with them a few times per month and behaved civilly towards her, but they weren't close. Hermione had no illusions that she and Neville were anything more than the Gryffindor department of Draco's informal network of acquaintances. That wasn't to say she was unhappy about that fact, far from it. Draco would be _important_ in a few years thanks to his family and his own not inconsiderable skills as a wizard. Hermione knew she would need friends in high places if she ever wanted to amount to anything in magical society; even more so if she wanted to change that very society for the better. In comparison to keeping her bossy nature, tendency to be an annoying know-it-all and academic overachiever in check maintaining and grooming a working relationship with Draco Malfoy was a piece of cake, especially because the boy could actually hold an intelligent conversation.

"Neville has some difficulties with spell-casting, especially in transfiguration. I'm looking for hints to help him. He knows the theory just fine, but has problems when it comes to the actual casting. There has to be some common factor." she finally answered.

Draco looked thoughtful for a moment. "I noticed that, too. I'm not sure what causes it, but I have an idea. It's a very delicate matter and I didn't want to bring it up. Did you notice anything unusual about Neville's wand?"

"Well, it looks a bit old, but Neville keeps it in very good shape. I noticed some other people using older wands, too." Her eyes widened slightly. "Do you think the wand is the problem? Mr. Ollivander did say the wand chooses the wizard."

"Maybe, but you can't just say that to him directly. A wand is the most personal item a wizard has. There is a lot of mysticism and superstition surrounding wand lore." Draco cautioned. "Most families keep the wands of deceased family members. Some people use old wands because they don't have the money for a new one, but I know the Longbottoms are wealthy enough. Whoever the wand belonged to must be important for Neville. Suggesting that he has to buy a new one would be incredibly rude."

Hermione could accept that reasoning. Over the last summer she had visited Neville and knew his parents were permanent residents of St. Mungo's. It was very likely the wand originally belonged to one of them. "What would you suggest?"

"I assume you will visit Neville's home over the summer?"

She nodded. They had already made some plans to meet up. Hermione didn't exactly look forward to meeting Neville's grandmother again. The old witch was very intimidating and Hermione had the impression she could look right through her and into her head. It was very disconcerting. During the last summer she had sent her several glances that almost directly said _'I know what you are doing and only allow it because it helps Neville.'_

"The Longbottoms should have stored the wands of their ancestors somewhere. I suggest you talk with Neville about wands at some point and get him to try out others. If his problem doesn't disappear we'll have to try something different. I'm sure you can handle the details." Draco explained.

Once again Hermione nodded. "Thank you for the suggestion."

"Don't mention it. Now, I originally came here to ask you a favor."

"A favor?" Hermione asked curiously. What could Draco want from her?

"Yes, a favor. I would regard it as a personal favor if you would take Ginny Weasley under your wing. She doesn't have any close friends in your house if I'm informed right."

Hermione simply stared at him. Her experiences with Ron had pretty much soured her against any Weasleys. "Why?" she asked suspiciously. "She has all her brothers. I'm sure you know about my… difficulties with Ron."

Draco scoffed. "Of course I know. The Weasel isn't exactly subtle. This is mainly for my sister. She's very worried about Ginny being isolated in her house. Believe it or not, but Aquila and Ginny have been pen pals for more than a year. Both of them have kept it secret from our families. I doubt either my parents or Ginny's family would react well."

That was probably an understatement. All of the Weasley boys were extremely hostile towards Slytherin in general and the Malfoy family in particular.

"What exactly do you want me to do?" Hermione asked.

"Just be her friend. Ginny will sometimes disappear to meet with me or my sister or maybe just to be alone for a time. I guess that's the main reason she hasn't befriended anyone."

Hermione nodded slowly. "I can do that. I don't promise anything, but I'll try. I don't suppose you can do anything about Ron?"

The blond boy looked contrite. "I'm truly sorry, but there is nothing I can do. Being friends with Ginny might help, though."

In the end Hermione agreed. A favor owned could come in useful and she wasn't really disinclined to help the girl. It wasn't until Hermione was sitting in the Great Hall for dinner that the news of the attack on the Ravenclaw prefect Penelope Clearwater reached her.

* * *

><p>Abraxas listened in silence to his son's boasting about how he had driven Dumbledore from Hogwarts in wake of the latest attack. He could only mentally shake his head about how Lucius had gotten the governors to sign off an order of suspension; Intimidation and blackmail. Once again his son had acted far too rashly and with unsettling shortsightedness. Abraxas was absolutely sure the suspension wouldn't stick, but when he had learned of the matter it had already been too late. Originally the seat on the board of Hogwarts' governors had been Abraxas', but the old Malfoy hadn't reclaimed all his positions from his son despite his improving health. He figured with his plans of leaving the country with Harry and his grandchildren in little more than two months there wasn't much point to it.<p>

It was only then Abraxas noticed that Lucius had fallen silent. Apparently he expected some sort of comment. "You did well Lucius. I'm proud of you." Empty praise came cheap and there was no need to antagonize his son. "Now, if you will excuse me; these old bones need some more rest."

The old man grimaced in annoyance as soon as he had left the room. The new basilisk attack meant that something had gone wrong with the planned exploration of the chamber. Fortunately he had already received a letter from Draco; meaning that his grandson was fine. The recent development wouldn't play out to their advantage, unfortunately. The security at Hogwarts would increase, hindering his grandson's efforts. At least he had already received the package for dealing with the basilisk and the phantasmagoricon. Dumbledore might have been suspended, but there was no guarantee he would actually leave the castle. The old fool had been headmaster of Hogwarts for nearly forty years and been a teacher there even longer. He was sure to know the wards and secret passages inside and out.

'_If only it had been me instead of Lucius. I could have turned this into something far more damaging in the long-term than the meaningless fleeting victory Lucius managed.'_ Unfortunately he just couldn't pay attention to everything even without taking his weakness into consideration. There were so many things to be done and so little time in the day.

Dumbledore was a case in point. The man was a master manipulator, but he couldn't do everything at the same time. Currently he apparently concentrated almost the entirety of his attention and political capital on forming Harry into the weapon he wanted. Controlling the situation around the philosopher's stone last year must have been difficult. Keeping the school open this year despite the attacks was costing him and his influence over Fudge and the Ministry was slowly slipping. Last year Fudge would have done anything Dumbledore suggested at the drop of a hat. This year… not necessarily. Of course, it would be a long time until Dumbledore used up all the goodwill and political capital he possessed. Even now he could easily regain much of the influence he had lost.

'_Fudge should be receptive enough for a transfer of guardianship of Harry during the summer. Most likely Dumbledore will be able to reverse it in two or three months, but by then we will be beyond his reach.'_

It reminded him that he still had to negotiate their exile. Even for him it wasn't easy to speak to the right people. In the overall scheme of thing magical Britain was a rather unimportant country to the African Confederation and the Malfoys were only one family among many.

'_The best opportunity will come shortly before Easter. Elder Solomon from the Confederation's High Council will be in Britain incognito and visit one of the muggle horse races as he does every year. I will approach him there. After we come to an agreement I can finalize the preparations.'_

Yes, that would be best. Abraxas was known to frequent horse races; no one would grow suspicious. Until then he would have to keep everything to himself. His bailiffs and stewards were generally trustworthy, but they might let something slip to the wrong person. Only after he had Solomon's agreement would he involve the Ministry.

'_Hopefully Draco will manage to deal with the basilisk. I fear what the senile old fool's plans will do to Harry otherwise.'_

* * *

><p>Harry's lungs and legs were burning. Branches and twigs hit him in the face, but he didn't stop running through the dark forest at the best speed he could manage. The clicking noises behind him served as motivation just fine.<p>

'_Follow the spiders… Hagrid really should have his head examined.'_

After witnessing Hagrid being taken away to Azkaban and Dumbledore dismissed Harry hadn't known what to make out of the half-giant's cryptic remark. None of them really believed Hagrid to be responsible for the opening of the Chamber of Secrets despite what the diary claimed. It was only several days later that he and Justin had spied a column of spiders heading into the Forbidden Forest. During the night they had snuck out to follow them… and promptly stumbled into an Acromantula lair. Aragog, the spider Hagrid had kept as a pet in the 40's and father of the spider colony, had been about to let his brood eat them. He hadn't even told them anything important.

Even now Harry wasn't sure what had happened next. One moment he had held tightly onto Justin and Hagrid's dog Fang amidst the horde of spiders; in the next moment they had found themselves some distance away in the forest. It was the same thing that had happened to him when he tried to escape Dudley and found himself on the school's roof. They had immediately started running. Somewhere along the way Harry had lost sight of Justin and Fang. He just hoped they would make it out of this damned forest.

Suddenly his foot caught on a root, causing him to stumble. He tried to get up, but found he was far too exhausted. His trembling legs just wouldn't obey his brain. A clicking noise immediately behind him sent shivers down his spine. When he turned around he saw the glowing eyes of at least four spiders approaching him. The moonlight was weak, but it was enough to see the beasts with far too many legs scuttling closer in the still largely leafless forest.

In a gesture of defiance Harry raised his wand. He didn't really know any spells that would be effective in this situation, but that wasn't a reason not to try.

"Tarantallegra!"

The nearest spider began to dance frantically. Unfortunately for Harry its flailing legs knocked the wand out of his hand. The other spiders froze for a moment, but when the first spider stopped dancing they advanced once again.

Harry could only stare in terror as one of spiders jumped at him, claws gleaming. It was almost touching Harry when it was suddenly thrown to side accompanied by a meaty thunking sound.

The bespectacled boy blinked, confused about what had just happened. In the next moment a second spider was hit by something that violently threw it backwards. The two remaining spiders hesitated, searching for the unknown attacker. It was the last mistake they made. Once again something came flying out of the darkness and hit the second-to-last spider, causing its body's contents to spatter on the forest floor. The last spider turned to flee, but before it could disappear into the undergrowth it too was killed.

For a few moments everything was silent. Harry looked frantically around, but he couldn't see anyone. A cloud obscured the moon and the forest went completely dark.

"Are you injured?"

"AHHH!" Harry screamed while frantically scrambling backwards until he hit a tree trunk. The voice had sounded almost directly by his ear. A moment later the cloud obscuring the moon moved on, giving him some vision back. Before him stood a small person clad in dark, form-fitting clothing, arms akimbo. Several unidentifiable objects were hanging from some sort of belt and a crossbow was strapped onto the figure's back. The figure's head was covered by fabric and some sort of goggles.

The figure sighed before it removed its headdress. Long, platinum-blond hair spilled over her shoulders, glowing softly in the moonlight. It obviously had become undone from some sort of braid. Harry vaguely recognized her features as belonging to one of the first year Slytherins, but he had never talked with the girl. "I'm not here to hurt you. Do you have any injuries?"

Only now it registered that the person had a female voice. It had been muffled into unrecognizability before. "I… I'm okay."

He heard a sniff as if the girl didn't quite believe him. "If you say so. Just stay put for a moment."

Harry couldn't quite make out what the girl was doing, but after a short time she approached him. The boy felt a familiar hard wooden stick pressed into his still shaking hand. "Here is your wand. Don't make any light; we don't want to draw anymore spiders to us. Can you stand?"

His legs were still shaking, but he managed to get up on his own. He immediately leant against the tree behind him, though. His breathing and heartbeat still hadn't returned to normal.

"Good enough I suppose. You have a minute to catch your breath while I retrieve my bolts."

The girl went over to one of the Acromantula corpses. In the next moment she put her arm directly into the corpse and pulled. Something came free with a sick squelching sound. Harry felt his stomach roiling and he closed his eyes. The disgusting sound repeated itself three times.

"Okay, I'm finished. We can leave." sounded the girl's voice directly besides him. This time Harry managed to suppress a scream.

"How do you do that?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Moving silently; I never heard you approach me."

The girl scoffed. "Please, moving without making a noise was one of the first things I learned. You can't hunt very well if the prey hears you coming from miles away. Now come along, I don't want any more spiders to turn up."

Harry had several more questions, but the girl simply pulled him along after putting her goggles back on. He had no idea where exactly they were. His rescuer seemed to know her way around, though. Several times he started to ask her something, but each time she immediately shushed him. At one occasion several Acromantula passed nearby and they had to take refuge in a grove of small pine trees. His heart pounding like mad, he held tightly onto the girl's hand. Fortunately the spiders didn't notice them and they soon resumed their journey. Harry wasn't sure how long it took them in the end, but he finally saw the lights of Hogwarts in the distance. He was about to run towards Hagrid's hut when the girl stopped them.

"Here is where we part. There are tracks of a dog and a boy heading towards the hut. You didn't see me and I didn't see you. Do we have a deal?"

He wasn't about to let the girl get away without asking at least a few questions. "Who are you?"

In answer to his question the girl once again removed her headdress and looked directly at him. In the forest he didn't get a really good look at her face, but now it was different.

"You're Draco's little sister." Harry blurted out. His contact with Draco had grown somewhat distant in second year, but they still occasionally flew together or talked a bit.

The girl nodded. "Yes, I'm Aquila Malfoy. I know who you are, Harry Potter."

"And what exactly were you doing in the Forbidden Forest?"

Suddenly Aquila seemed flustered. "That's none of your business; I could ask the same of you." After a moment of silence she continued speaking. "If you must know, I wanted to go hunting. I planned on doing that since before I came to Hogwarts. With the gamekeeper and the headmaster gone no one watches the forest. I snuck out of the castle a few hours ago."

"Hunting?" Harry asked incredulously.

Aquila shrugged. "It's my favorite pastime."

"But you're a first year!"

The girl's eyes narrowed. "And? At least I prepared properly for a journey into the forest." She poked him into the chest. Hard. "Not like some other people I could name. What were you thinking, traipsing around in your robes? That's just asking for trouble. Not to mention stirring up the spiders. Didn't you have any plans on how to deal with wild animals?"

He had to admit that the girl was right. His robes were dirty and torn in several places. He and Justin hadn't really thought this through.

"Now excuse me, I have to get back to my dorm. You can thank me later for saving your life."

Harry blushed. In the excitement he had completely forgotten about that. He was about to do it now, but Aquila had already donned her headdress and disappeared into the darkness. There was no trace of the girl.

'_She's good at this.'_ Harry sighed. _'I guess I should head to the hut and see if Justin and Fang are really there.'_

That was indeed the case. Fang was trembling under a blanket in his basket and Justin was sitting at the table, deathly pale. He jumped to his feet when he saw Harry entering the cabin.

"Harry, you're okay! I was so worried. You weren't there anymore all of a sudden! I almost went and got a teacher." he shouted. "Follow the spiders! I'll never forgive Hagrid. We're lucky to be alive."

Harry had to agree. Hagrid probably thought Aragog wouldn't harm friends of his. At least they had clearly established his innocence. After calming down sufficiently the two boys grabbed the invisibility cloak and headed back to the castle. Harry didn't notice until much later that he had lost Riddle's diary somewhere in the forest.

* * *

><p>Ginny stared at the diary in her hands. She really hadn't expected to see it again.<p>

"It's yours, isn't it? I saw you several times writing in it." Aquila said.

The redhead managed to overcome her stupor in time for an answer. "Yes, thank you; that's really mine. I lost it a while ago." A horrible idea blossomed in her mind. "You didn't look into it, did you?"

Aquila laughed lightly. "No, I didn't, not that I wasn't tempted, mind you. Normally I would have used the opportunity to learn all your juicy secrets, but since you're my friend I give you a free pass this time. I found it a few days ago in a seldom visited place."

Their conversation soon turned to other subjects before they had to part. Meeting with Aquila was rather difficult with none of their houses learning of that fact. It was made even worse with the increased security in the wake of Penelope's petrification. Thankfully the teachers were already loosening their tight oversight.

March was coming to an end and she had been very worried about the diary. There was no telling what it might have done to Harry. Unfortunately neither she nor Draco had found any way of stealing it from Harry, but that point was now fortunately moot.

Taking a turn that would take her deeper into the castle, Ginny headed to her next meeting with Draco. The blond boy was already waiting for her. "I've finally located another entrance to the Chamber, but I haven't tried to open it yet. I think it best if we do that together."

"That's good." Ginny replied before she showed him the diary. "I got the diary back. Your sister of all people had it. She recognized it as mine and returned it earlier."

"Aquila?" Draco shook his head in wonderment. "How in the world did she get her hands on it?" Suddenly he looked very worried. "She didn't write in it, did she?"

"Apparently not; she wanted to respect my privacy."

Draco let out a relieved sigh. "Thank Merlin."

A few minutes later Draco led her through a door in an out-of-the-way corner of the basement. By now she knew how to get around the castle, but she would have never found that door on her own. Hogwarts was a really big castle and only a relatively small part was actively used. Away from the main areas lurked an enormous number of possible discoveries. The corridors Draco was leading her through seemed to have been completely abandoned a long time ago. There weren't even any portraits here.

Finally they arrived in a large, empty room. The room was illuminated by several light shafts disappearing into the ceiling. Perhaps the most remarkable features were the walls; they were covered in intricate murals depicting animals and plants both magic and mundane native to Britain.

"We're under the North Tower. The entrance should be here somewhere." Draco remarked. He made a complete round around the room until he came to a halt at a specific spot. "The snakes are concentrated here. I'll go first." Draco hissed at the wall. This time nothing happened. "Okay, it seems this is either one of the original entryways or a bust. Ginny, your turn."

Ginny nodded and approached the wall. Somehow she just knew how to use parseltongue. She wasn't entirely comfortable with the question how she had retained that ability, but it was unquestioningly useful. _"Open."_

The wall slid open obediently, revealing a staircase descending into the darkness. Lighting up their wands, both children entered. Soon enough the stairway opened into a tangle of corridors. Ginny knew them, though, and she took the lead. The diary had compelled her to wander around here several times, but it had her only use the exit in Myrtle's bathroom and the other one where Penelope had been petrified. By now Ginny had a pretty good overview of her actions under the diary's influence. Perhaps Riddle hadn't known about the other exits.

"Is there anything here?" Draco asked curiously.

"No, only empty rooms and corridors. I think all the contents were removed long before Riddle found the Chamber."

By now she had subscribed to Draco's theory that the Chamber had been opened several times in the past without releasing the basilisk. It was certainly logical. Why would anyone sane want to unleash that monster at the school? The basilisk was an instrument solely for killing; it was in its nature. All the rooms aside from the basilisk's chamber had been emptied of anything valuable.

It took them several minutes, but finally they arrived in the main chamber through a concealed door. Draco looked around curiously, but strangely he seemed to know the general layout of the chamber.

"I guess it's time for dealing with the basilisk for good. We can't risk delaying any longer." he said when they stood before the statue of Salazar Slytherin.

"How? You didn't bring any roosters with you, did you?"

Draco laughed. "No, I didn't. Besides, from what Grandfather told me roosters aren't actually harmful to a basilisk. It would be thoroughly useless as a weapon if that would be true; almost every settlement had chicken in the past."

That information incensed Ginny. "You mean to tell me that Riddle forced me to slaughter Hagrid's roosters for nothing?"

"Correct. Riddle probably never knew the truth; there's a lot of disinformation out there." Her companion removed an object from his robes and put it onto the floor before tapping it with his wand. It immediately turned into a real, living pig, but to Ginny it seemed as if it was a transfigured animal judging from the lifeless look in its eyes.

"Oink?"

"What is the pig for?" Ginny asked curiously.

Draco smirked maliciously. "Oh, that's Grandfather's idea for dealing with the basilisk. He hired a transfiguration master to prepare that thing. If the snake eats it there will be a very unwelcome surprise. Please call the basilisk; we better take shelter."

Ginny did as Draco asked. As soon as the statue opened its mouth she ran back to the concealed entrance, closing it behind her and Daco. For a few moments nothing seemed to happen. Then the pig screamed in pain. A few moments later another scream filled the air, this one more reptilian in nature. The walls shook as something clashed against them.

"What did you do?" Ginny asked Draco while the walls continued to shake and sand came down from the ceiling.

"I? Nothing." the boy replied smugly. "The basilisk did everything himself. I imagine a mouth full of sharp-edged steel scrap is extremely painful."

"Steel scrap?"

Draco nodded. "My grandfather got it from a muggle scrap yard and had it transfigured by a specialist into the form of a pig with a release trigger of being eaten. A basilisk is almost immune against magic, but that doesn't help it against a mouthful of sharp steel."

The trashing continued for two minutes until it grew deathly still. They waited an additional five minutes just to be sure. Then Draco pulled out a small silver bowl, filled it with water from a flask and stared into it intently.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking if it's safe for us to enter. Sorry, can't talk about how I do it. Family secret." Draco answered apologetically. "I think the basilisk is safely dead. The eyes have already lost their glow."

The main chamber had been heavily damaged. Slabs of stone had come down from the ceiling and columns and statues had parts broken off. The basilisk rested in the midst of the destruction as a contorted heap, blood dribbling from its open mouth. The monster that had terrorized the school was dead. It was almost anticlimactic.

When Ginny stepped closer she saw that the pig had transformed into a construct of rusty but sharp steel with spikes emerging in all directions. It was far larger than the pig, too. One particular spike had been driven into the basilisk's brain through the roof of its mouth.

Draco approached the corpse and tapped the steel construct with his wand. Once again it transformed; this time back into a small statue of a pig it had originally. Then he began shooting cutting curses at both eyes until they splattered. "The eyes are some of the most valuable parts. I'm pretty certain Dumbledore will try to sell parts of the corpse after everything is over and I don't want to give him any more funds if I can help it." he offered in way of explanation. "We should take care of the diary, too, before it causes more problems."

Ginny nodded and set the diary on the floor. Draco meanwhile did something inside the basilisk's mouth. He grunted with effort and something broke off. When she turned towards him she saw a broken fang in his hands. He offered it to her. "If you want to do the honors? Just stab the diary; the basilisk venom should do the rest."

A very unpleasant smile appeared on Ginny's lips. "It will be my pleasure." She carefully took the fang into her hands, positioned it correctly and drove it straight into the heart of the book. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Ginny's hands, flooding the floor. Then there was only silence and an enormous feeling of satisfied revenge in her heart.

Draco nodded in satisfaction and cast a cleaning spell on Ginny's hands, vanishing the ink. "And that takes care of that. Now we only have to stage a proper heroic confrontation to satisfy Dumbledore. Tomorrow we'll bring the phantasmagoricon here; I'll need a few hours to properly set it up. In two or three days everything will be ready. What do you think should we do to lure Harry here?"

"I think Riddle would put some sort of message on the wall near the toilet. He's a drama queen like that." Ginny answered after a moment of thought. "I remember the spell Riddle had me use to create the bloody writing. I do that and head here through Myrtle's lavatory. Then I just wait and play the damsel in distress."

In the end they pulled it off without problems. Three days after they killed the basilisk Ginny left a new message on the wall, entered the Chamber and settled down to wait for her rescuers. The chamber was damp and uncomfortable, but there wasn't anything she could do. For a long time nothing happened.

'_By now I could have easily died if that was real.' _Ginny mused. Suddenly she heard a rumble in the distance. It appeared things were finally moving forward.

"Set stage. Let the show begin." she commanded to activate the phantasmagoricon. The strange magical amphora had been hidden in a dark corner of the room. A moment later the entire room wavered, turning back into an intact state. The corpse of the basilisk disappeared. She felt herself being drawn into the illusionary play, becoming the helpless victim lying paralyzed on the floor. Draco's grandfather had given them a lot of information how the diary would likely have proceeded in its task to revive Tom Riddle a.k.a. Lord Voldemort. Combined with her own knowledge it had been relatively easy to come up with a convincing display that played to Dumbledore's desire for Harry to become a hero.

Several minutes passed until the main doors swung open, revealing Harry. Just a moment before he could get a good look of the hall an image of Riddle materialized from thin air. A part of Ginny watched the confrontation with idle curiosity while it looked for the world that she was lying unconscious on the floor. Illusion-Riddle acted completely natural. It still disturbed Ginny greatly that she had been under the control of a younger form of You-know-who.

Suddenly music began playing and a flash of fire on top of one pillar caught Ginny's attention. A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its weird music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock's and gleaming golden talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle. A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder.

Anger mixed with panic coursed through Ginny. _'That is Dumbledore's phoenix. He could have entered and retrieved me the entire time. Mighty convenient for it to turn up now.'_

For a moment Ginny feared their game was up, but the bird didn't act as if it could see the real status of the chamber. Apparently the illusion had ensnared it, too. Draco had said the artifact would affect everyone who entered its range, but she doubted a phoenix fell into its normal parameters. They certainly didn't expect the bird to turn up. Apparently they got lucky.

After a bit of banter Illusion-Riddle called the Illusion-basilisk and the fight was on. Harry closed his eyes and tried to evade the basilisk while the phoenix attacked its eyes. It went on for a while until Harry suddenly pulled a sword out of the ragged thing the phoenix had dropped earlier. For just a moment Ginny could feel the illusion waver as it dealt with the new development; then it regained its strength.

Blinded, the Illusion-basilisk lunged wildly, destroying large parts of the chamber. Its mouth full of sharp stones from a missed lunge, the basilisk suddenly sank to the floor. Harry saw the opening and drove his sword into the basilisk's mouth. The great snake seemed to die almost immediately. A fang broke off and came to rest a small distance away. The phoenix scooped up the seemingly intact diary and dropped it off at Harry's side. Harry destroyed it with the fang. Illusion-Riddle faded away. If Ginny hadn't known she had destroyed the diary at the very same spot several days ago she would have been completely convinced this was genuine.

Ginny felt the illusion fade when she stirred, but there weren't any changes to the room. Somehow the artifact had controlled all actions to end up with just the right image. _'Okay, time for a bit of good, old-fashioned acting.'_

She drew a great, shuddering gasp and forced some tears from her eyes. "Harry… oh, Harry… I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of the others… it was me, Harry… but I… I s-swear I d-didn't mean to… R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over… and… how did you kill that… that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary…"

" It's all right." said Harry, holding up the diary, and showing Ginny the fang hole. "Riddle's finished. Look! Him and the basilisk. C'mon, Ginny, let's get out of here…"

Both children left the chamber through the main entrance. The door closed behind them with a soft hiss. There had been a cave-in in the tunnel, but luckily they could squeeze through a hole. To her surprise Justin and Ron awaited her on the other side. She didn't say much, continuing to play the shocked eleven-year-old. _'Why exactly is Ron here? He was perfectly content to ignore me throughout the year. This is completely out-of-character for him.'_

When they reached the mouth of the pipe (apparently the boys had never discovered how to activate the stairs) a placidly humming Lockhart was sitting on the ground. From what the boys said he had tried to memory charm them, but the spell backfired because he used Ron's wand that had broken on the way down. After a short discussion the phoenix carried them up the pipe. Myrtle seemed actually disappointed that they were still alive.

"Harry! I think Myrtle has grown fond of you! You've got competition, Ginny!" her brother said in his usual insensitive manner. It made Ginny want to hex him.

The phoenix led them to McGonagalls's office. Ginny found herself engulfed in a big hug by her parents. When she managed to extricate herself enough to look around she spotted a beaming Professor Dumbledore standing by the mantelpiece. She felt an intrusion in her fake mind and immediately shoved the illusionary memories to the forefront. Seemingly satisfied, the intrusion ended and Dumbledore turned to Harry.

Ginny would have expected for all of them to be immediately sent to the infirmary, but no, apparently Harry had to tell the story first. She listened attentively while keeping up her distraught façade. Harry's tale was highly suspicious. Draco was completely right; there was no way Dumbledore wouldn't have figured that out on his own. Well, aside from the fact that Ginny knew from her own experience that Dumbledore had engineered Harry finding the diary. For Morgana's sake, the boys found a book about basilisks in just the right moment and not months before? The attacks started before Myrtle's bathroom (who Dumbledore knew had died the last time the chamber was opened) and no one thought to question her? The most interesting information from her perspective was that Ron had approached Harry and Justin just when they got to Lockhart's office. She had to think later what exactly that meant.

Finally she was sent to the infirmary, her deeply shaken parents accompanying her. Ginny didn't like worrying them; she hadn't been in any real danger, but after that display in McGonagall's office she felt justified in her course of action. Dumbledore had not caused the basilisk crisis, but he had prolonged and abetted it; all in the name of turning Harry into a hero.

It was almost an hour later when her parents finally left her alone, ushered out by a tired Madam Pomfrey. There were only the petrified students here, giving her time to think.

Lying in bed, her thoughts turned to Harry. Coming to rescue her had been incredibly brave and loyal… and incredibly stupid at the same time. Under normal circumstances there should have been no way for Harry to win. What had he been thinking, bringing only two other boys and Lockhart along? By now everyone knew the man was a dangerous fraud. He was the worst teacher he could have asked. It was made worse by the fact that he knew he would be up against a basilisk. All he would have achieved if the confrontation had been real was getting himself and others killed.

Oh, Ginny was grateful and flattered someone would do that for her. She had another problem. Rushing headlong into dangerous situations was just so mind-numbingly reckless and stupid that she found it hard to truly appreciate it. It just wasn't behavior she could respect; Stupid-Ginny would have found it incredibly noble and romantic if she had been still around in her head.

'_The heroes in the stories Mum and Dad told me acted the same.'_

In that moment she realized something very important: Harry might be a hero, but a hero wasn't what she wanted or needed. Draco had recognized there was a problem, quietly investigated and come up with a solution that minimized the risks for everyone involved. Then he implemented that solution with proper preparation. If he hadn't done anything and if Harry had succeeded regardless in playing the hero Dumbledore wanted the direct destruction of the diary would have caused her untold, permanent mental damage. It was a chilling realization. In its wake her already diminished crush on the Boy-who-lived died a silent, unlamented death.

That done, her thoughts turned to Ron. It was just too convenient for him to show up just when Harry was visiting Lockhart and completely out-of-character for him. Oh, he would be worried about her disappearance, no doubt, but going into the basilisk's lair himself? Unlikely.

'_Think like Draco. Who has the ability to manipulate things this way? What could be the goals?'_

The who was pretty obvious. Dumbledore was the most likely culprit. Now, what could he expect to get out of this? Ron was hopeless as a spy or manipulator. If she was honest with herself Ron wasn't really good at anything, mainly because his laziness always got the better of him. All in all he was a normal if very lazy and immature boy.

Then it hit her. It wasn't so much Ron himself but his (and her) entire family. Harry was an orphan. Both her parents were ardent supporters of Dumbledore and took his opinions and suggestions as gospel. Getting Harry into closer contact with them would influence him in the same direction. It probably wouldn't work considering Harry didn't like Ron, but Dumbledore didn't lose anything in the attempt. In the same vein, if she ever breathed even the slightest hint of the real events to her parents Dumbledore would learn of it immediately. Dumbledore was evil, but her parents simply wouldn't believe that and seek his help and counsel.

Ginny came to a devastating conclusion: She couldn't trust her own family anymore in important matters.

* * *

><p>Lucius Malfoy was incensed. Not only had Dumbledore resumed his position as headmaster, no, he himself had been removed from the board of governors. His scheme with the diary had come to nothing. An obviously dark artifact had been first under Arthur Weasley's and then Dumbledore's nose for months, but there would be no consequences. For now he had lost that game.<p>

'_I will have my revenge on Potter and the old fool.' _he thought while looking over the grounds surrounding Malfoy Manor. His face contorted into a smirk when he saw Abraxas leaving via apparition. He would never return; at least that plan was still on track.

His father was predictable; he always visited that specific horse race. Lucius didn't know how his father gained any enjoyment surrounded by unwashed muggles, but that no longer mattered. Greyback had been informed and was already waiting at the destination. Soon there would be a new Lord Malfoy.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Thanks for all the reviews. It's been a while since the last update, but has resulted in this extra-long chapter. I wanted to finally wrap up the basilisk. Abraxas' fate will be decided in the next chapter.


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 11**

Sitting in a comfortable armchair in the Ravenclaw common room, Draco looked out over the Hogwarts grounds. The weather had once again turned rainy with the occasional sleet mixed in, but hopefully that would change soon. Most of the hallways weren't exactly comfortable under these conditions.

A book about Defense against the Dark Arts was lying in his lap even if he currently wasn't reading. Since Lockhart's 'mishap' in the Chamber of Secrets Professors Flitwick and Snape had taken over the class, albeit with reduced hours. They had given them a lot of homework to do, no wonder considering Lockhart's ineptness at teaching. Fortunately Draco had kept up with independent study (in truth he had reached the level of fourth year in that subject), but there was still a lot to do. Details were important and both professors set their own priorities. It wouldn't do to do badly in the end of year exams.

For now he had nothing really important to do. The diary was safely destroyed, the basilisk dead, Ginny free and Harry had solved Dumbledore's 'How to become a martyr' plot for the school year without suffering too much damage. Dumbledore and Hagrid had returned to the school. Kevin and the other victims of the basilisk were still petrified, but there was nothing Draco could do about that until the mandrakes matured. It would make catching up with their peers very difficult, especially for those petrified early in the school year.

"So Draco, Morag, did you already decide on electives for the next year? I just can't decide." Stephen asked suddenly from the chair beside him.

"Not yet. The people from the upper years I asked gave contradictory advice. Draco?"

"I'm not really sure." Draco answered absentmindedly. "There's still time; we only have to decide after the Easter holidays."

Draco didn't expect to be around for third year when his grandfather's plans came to fruition, but of course he couldn't share that knowledge. It was better to act as if he would return after the summer holidays. Besides, there was always the possibility of something going wrong. That meant he had to pick at least two electives he could live with. Unfortunately the choices weren't really appealing.

Divination was out of the question. If it had been competently taught it would have been very useful and interesting in light of Draco's own talents at scrying, but Trelawny was an incompetent fraud. Even most of the relevant books buried kernels of useful knowledge under a mountain of misleading or outright wrong nonsense. Furthermore, he didn't want to give any indication that he was talented in that field.

Muggle studies was a joke and severely out of date. If the information from his other self still held true Charity Burbage would take over next year. The woman was very dedicated and would update the subject at least somewhat, but she was an ardent supporter of Dumbledore's official muggle friendly views. He could really do without the naïve propaganda that bore only a passing resemblance to reality, especially considering that Burbage was a pureblood who didn't truly understand the muggle word herself. Besides, Draco's father would take exception. That would undermine Draco's efforts to keep at least an outwardly cordial and respectful relationship to him.

Arithmancy was somewhat promising. The subject was important for curse-breaking and spell-crafting. Unfortunately the class as taught at Hogwarts contained a lot of rather useless baggage like trying to predict the future with numbers. Thanks to his other self Draco knew there were some fundamental flaws inherent to current arithmantic theory. Perhaps a third of what was taught would be actually useful. Professor Vector was very strict and assigned a lot of homework. It would be a heavy burden on Draco's available time. Surprisingly the woman was completely apolitical; her head was filled with numbers and she didn't care about anything else.

Care of Magical Creatures was theoretically very interesting. Additionally an OWL and NEWT there would be very useful for a number of the Malfoy family businesses due to some legal requirements. Since there was a lot of time-intensive practical work required it would be impossible to acquire the knowledge on his own and inconvenient to get the degree later. Unfortunately the choice of teachers was somewhat lacking. Professor Kettleburn (who was a prime example of how not to go about the subject considering the number of natural limbs he had left) would retire at the end of this school year. In all likelihood Hagrid would take over. Not only had the half-giant no sense of the danger his pets posed to normal wizards, he was a rather inept teacher who ignored most of the normal curriculum. That wasn't really surprising considering that he had never completed the third year of his Hogwarts education. Hagrid would probably be great as an assistant to a professional thanks to his practical knowledge of creatures, but on his own he was unsuited for teaching. In fact, he didn't fulfill the formal requirements of that particular teaching position (most importantly, being a qualified emergency healer. Lack of timely, magical first aid could be fatal in this class), but of course Dumbledore had enough clout to ignore that. In the other future Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank had at times covered for him. The old witch was very competent in her chosen field, but once again she was another blind supporter of Dumbledore.

Lastly, Study of Ancient Runes. Professor Babbling was of questionable competence (being a Dumbledore loyalist went without saying) and once again a large part of the class was not worth his time. Most of the ancient runic scripts were only of historical interest. The parts relevant for useful applications like enchanting and warding were only covered in the later years.

All in all, none of the subjects were what Draco wanted. Unfortunately he had to choose. In all likelihood he would follow the footsteps of the other Draco and sign himself in for Runes and Care of Magical Creatures. Perhaps it would be wise to add Arithmancy as well. It would probably be moot anyway. In case he had to attend he could always drop one class if one of the three electives proved to be too bothersome.

* * *

><p>Abraxas had hardly taken a few steps in the back alley he had used to hide his apparition when he realized something was seriously wrong. A slight change in the atmosphere indicated that an anti-apparition along with an anti-portkey charm had been cast. That could only mean one thing: an ambush.<p>

Thoughts raced in the old man's head when he began to remove his wand from the holster under his arm. _'I should have chosen a different alley. I made myself predictable by using the same one for the last few years.'_

In the next moment Abraxas saw a red light from the corner of his eyes. Throwing himself forward with reckless abandon, he managed to avoid the spell, but lost the grip on his walking stick. Three impacts around him indicated that there had been more attacks he didn't see coming. There were some figures in front of him, but they were distant enough to not be an immediate worry.

Upon contact with the ground the old man did a somersault in spite of his creaking, aching bones. More spells impacted around him. One carved a painful gash across his side. Turning his roll into a jump he finally managed to ready his wand and get a look at his attackers. There were at least six people with wands aiming at him.

'_No time for finesse or incantations. Shielding is useless against that many opponents. I have to go for power, speed and minimal casting time.'_

Searching and finding the magical connection that bound him as the head of the Malfoy family, Abraxas drew as much magic as he could to reinforce his spells. Abraxas first silent spell caved a woman's chest in, causing her to fall backwards with a gurgling scream. Jumping sideways to evade the counter fire he launched a wide-area cutting spell. The crescent of invisible force bisected two more attackers before carving a deep gouge into the wall behind them, but one managed to throw himself to the ground and two were out of range. He didn't have time for a third spell as his enemies sent another pair of spells at him.

The old man realized he couldn't avoid both spells. One looked like a stunner; the other had a sickly yellowish-green color. A hit with a stunner would mark the end of the fight for him; he would have to take his chances with the other spell. He almost managed to avoid even the second spell despite his protesting joints. Unfortunately he just wasn't quite fast enough. The spell clipped his hip with a sizzling sound. Abraxas had to bite back a cry of pain. It felt like the area had been severely scalded.

'_Amateur. In this situation you use spells that put a target down when they hit… or even when the miss is close enough.'_

In response Abraxas banished the man who had cast the stunner with all the power he could muster. It wasn't an efficient use of his stamina, but he had no time for wand movements. The man hit the wall behind him with enough bone-crushing force to leave a deep impression in the bricks. He had been reduced to perhaps half his original thickness, bone fragments jutting out and blood splashed over the area surrounding the impact zone.

A poorly aimed spell from the standing enemy went wide, allowing Abraxas the time for a properly cast blasting curse. He almost missed, but it was still enough to practically disintegrate the man's left leg and a good chunk of his torso along with a significant section of the pavement.

In the meantime the man who had evaded his cutting curse had brought his wand to bear and finished a longer incantation. When Abraxas realized what was about to happen he barely managed to get a shield up in time. In the next moment his field of vision was filled by flames. His hastily cast shield held, but it was a close thing.

Abraxas groaned when the fiery assault intensified. Whoever his enemy was, he had more raw power than the Malfoy patriarch. Defending against this sort of attack for any length of time was a losing proposition, especially with this poorly constructed emergency shield. He couldn't get out of the way or use another spell either; the attack had a large enough area of effect to burn him if his shield failed for even a moment. Using his free left hand he fumbled with his coat. It took him long seconds to extract the ornate throwing knife originally intended as a present/bribe for his contact.

'_The flames swirl that way… that means my opponent is… there.'_

He wasn't quite ambidextrous, but he had handled enough throwing knives in his misspent (or well spent, judging from the profit) youth to manage a throw with sufficient accuracy. The knife effortlessly penetrated his shield and his opponent's flames. A moment later a howl of pain assaulted his ears and the flames disappeared. His attacker was clutching his stomach, blood pouring from between his hands. From the looks of it the fool had ripped the knife out. Another cutting curse relieved him of his head.

Abraxas was in the process of turning around to deal with the figures he had spotted before when something hit him sideways in the chest. Ribs broke as he was hurled away like a rag doll. A painful collision with a wall ended his flight.

Blinking tears of pain away, Abraxas saw that several new attackers had arrived from the exit of the alley and were now cautiously approaching him. Or rather the direction where there had been an exit: a stone wall was now blocking that route. Only two of the new attackers had wands, though. Somehow he had managed to retain the grip on his wand and the attackers didn't have a good view of his right arm. He would need to make use of the time they gave him. He tried to get a better look while he used his wand to provisionally fix his ribs and cast a powerful pain numbing spell along with others that would allow him to temporarily ignore the limits of his old and frail body. If he survived this battle he would need to be hospitalized or die outright, but it was the only way that at least would give him a chance.

The old man felt his ribs slowly sliding back into place. He was decidedly too old for life-and-death fights, but he might still have a chance. Due to him now being largely incapable of feeling pain he would be able to keep fighting even when he sustained injuries that would put him down normally. He would worry about the aftereffects later. Then he spotted the man behind the attackers and his hopes plummeted. The form of Fenrir Greyback was immediately recognizable to him. Judging from the animalistic appearance all his enemies were werewolves.

'_I did nothing to antagonize them. This is a paid assassination.'_

Then the two wizards raised their wands and there was no more time. Abraxas mumbled an incantation for a modified banishing spell that threw him high into the air, evading the spell fire. A blasting cure reduced one of the wizards to a cloud of bloody shreds. Abraxas prepared for his landing and the next spell. Then it happened. His leg just didn't move fast enough. He stumbled and his spell went wide.

'_Too old, too slow.'_

Before he could do anything else a piercing pain in his right arm drew his attention. For a moment he just stared in incomprehension. His right hand had been ripped off at the wrist. One of the werewolves held it in his clawed hand. The only reason Abraxas wasn't incapacitated was that he had cast the pain-numbing spell earlier. Snapping out of it, he reassessed the situation. A glance down showed him that the spare wand he carried at his hip had been destroyed earlier in the fight. He was now without a wand and he could barely manage any wandless magic even under ideal circumstances. Luckily his enemies seemed to be surprised by his lack of reaction and gave him a short breather. He simply would have to try. His wand was inaccessible, but he had another weapon.

Concentrating hard, he summoned his discarded walking stick to him. His enemies were still staring at him when he caught it left-handed and started the incantation to deactivate the transfiguration it had been spelled with. A sharp stab into the larynx of the nearest werewolf reduced the number of enemies by one in the meantime. Only now they began moving again, but his incantation was now finished: His walking stick turned back into the sword made out of fine Toledo steel it had originally been.

The first target was the last werewolf with a wand. He went down easily with a pierced heart. Then a chaotic melee ensued.

Slash.

Stab.

Dodge.

Jump.

Strike.

Lunge.

It was a nightmare of blood, steel and claws. All the werewolves were partially transformed, making them stronger and faster than him. The moon would be full in two days, giving them another boost. On the other hand none of them were true fighters; they relied on their superior physique.

Abraxas didn't know how much time passed while he frantically dodged and slashed. More than once claws and teeth ripped into him, but thanks to his spell he felt hardly any pain. He wouldn't stop until either all his enemies were dead or he could no longer move.

Suddenly jaws closed around his remaining hand. The pain was strangely muted. Half of his hand was ripped away, leaving only two fingers. Abraxas saw the look of triumph in the eyes of the severely wounded werewolf who had lost both arms earlier before the creature toppled over. In the next moment a swipe from another enemy hit him squarely in the chest, digging deep into his body. A powerful kick shattered Abraxas' kneecap and he fell to the ground.

Above him stood Fenrir Greyback, his face a mask of anger. Fresh wounds crisscrossed his body, but unfortunately none were incapacitating or even life-threatening. A clawed hand closed around Abraxas' throat and he was lifted into the air.

"Old man, you decimated my pack. You will pay for that. I will make your death painful beyond all imagination."

Then Greyback rammed his other clawed hand into his stomach, slowly digging deeper until he was inside up to his elbow. The pain was nearly unbearable despite the numbing charm. In that moment Abraxas realized that he wouldn't make it out of there alive. All his planning to get Harry and his grandchildren out of the country would be for nothing. Without the deal he had hoped to strike today it wouldn't work and thanks to his long illness he had not been able to find effective alternate solutions. The future of House Malfoy would be in the hands of his grandson if Lucius didn't manage to destroy them in the meantime. At least some contingency plans were in place there.

'_No, there is one thing left I can do before I die.'_

He would be able to rid the world of a monster. Even without his wand and at death's door he wasn't completely helpless. During his travels he had learned some magic that didn't require a wand and would be considered extremely Dark, for good reason. One of the factors for the fall of the Diamond Sultanate had been the spread of sorcerers who used the blood and life of others to gain more power, making deals with things not from this world in the process. They had mostly annihilated each other in succession struggles before he arrived in the Middle East, but at one point in time Abraxas had infiltrated a surviving cell under the guise of an acolyte. When the time had been right he had poisoned them all and taken their riches. Luckily the opportunity had arrived before he had been deemed ready to make a deal of his own. There would have been no going back from that. He had learned a few spells, but without a deal he had no way of powering them aside from using his own life force. Even casting one of the most low-powered spells would kill him. Well, it wasn't as if he had any other use for his remaining seconds of life.

Having made up his mind he began mentally reciting the incantation in the strange language the sorcerers had used for that purpose. He could feel his remaining strength draining as the words took shape in his mind, their meaning clear to him in spite of the inhuman language. _**'Burning in the depths of the pits of darkness, may the fires of hell take you! Let the fire be my sword and strike you down!'**_

Abraxas touched Greyback's brow with his mangled left hand. A moment later the head of the werewolf burst into unquenchable black flames that emitted a biting cold. The man screamed in pain and dropped Abraxas, disemboweling the old wizard in the process. It didn't make much difference pain-wise. He was already slipping away. Greyback's screams cut off as the werewolf succumbed to the unholy fire.

As Abraxas lay dying amidst the corpses of the enemies he had slain he couldn't help but smile. Dying peacefully in his bed surrounded by his family had been his hope, but this was a good second best. Some small part of him had always wanted to be a hero. Slaying a monster like Greyback certainly counted.

A break in the cloud cover allowed him to see the sun a last time. When the gap closed and the light faded from the world Abraxas' life went with it.

* * *

><p>"Abraxas Malfoy was a great man. He will be sorely missed. It was a great privilege for me to have him call me friend. I clearly remember…"<p>

Draco kept his pose beyond reproach while he let the eulogy held by Alan MacDougal wash over him. It was important to keep up appearances; he was already old enough that he couldn't allow himself to show weakness. Besides, it was enough that he felt the sadness, anger, hollowness and grief inside. There was no reason to show intense emotions to the world. People could easily take advantage of that. A quick glance to the side showed him that Aquila held up well enough, too. His mother had come for him and his sister a Hogwarts and brought them home before the news officially broke.

The funeral on the Malfoy grounds was extremely well-visited. The heads of the Old Families (and their family members); the entire Wizengamot; everyone from the Ministry of Magic who was in any way important as well as countless others had come. Some of them could have been expected even under more normal circumstances; his grandfather had been an important figure in Britain's magical society, after all. Only the circumstances were anything but normal. The Minister had even declared an official day of mourning.

Abraxas' death had not been just a death. It had been a clear-cut case of murder of an important pureblood politician not seen since the Voldemort War. Abraxas had died, yes, but he had taken almost two dozen werewolves with him, Fenrir Greyback among them. The monster's pack had been effectively annihilated. Still, the backlash against werewolves was very strong.

Meanwhile, Cornelius Fudge had taken over from Lord MacDougal. "…It is with enormous sadness that I learned of Lord Malfoy's untimely death at the hands of these beasts just when he had recovered from his illness. With him we lose one of the pillars of our community. Be assured, my administration will do the utmost to prevent anything like this from happening ever again. It has been my long-standing policy to protect our society from these dangerous animals despite deep-seated opposition. Have these beasts not shown again and again that they cannot be trusted? As I speak new laws to keep every witch and wizard safe are drawn up and will be put to vote shortly." Fudge paused for effect. "Still, we owe the deceased Lord Malfoy an enormous debt of gratitude. Even severely outnumbered he refused to accept his fate and fought. Not only did he strike down every werewolf attacking him before he succumbed to his injuries, he rid us of the monster Fenrir Greyback who plagued our world for such a long time. I'm proud to bestow an Order of Merlin First Class on the deceased. His behavior sets an example we all should aspire to."

At that point Draco stopped listening consciously. Fudge and others were turning his grandfather's death into a political advantage. Their outrage was probably genuine, though. Fudge and especially his undersecretary Umbridge had always pursued an anti-werewolf agenda. Draco himself was unsure about his own views on the matter.

Werewolves in general were a complicated subject. Some saw them as innocent, unfortunate victims while others regarded them as vicious beasts. The problem was that both sides were right.

Lycanthropy didn't only affect the victim's body during the full moon. It influenced their minds, too. Not in every case and not immediately, but at some point almost all werewolves turned into monsters that combined the worst of beast and human. The change could happen from one moment to the next without warning, but usually it was a more drawn-out process that was almost unnoticeable over the years or even decades. The werewolf in question would 'forget' to take safety precautions or sabotage them, sometimes without realizing what he was doing. Then he would begin to actively plot ways to harm other humans. Sometime later only a beast in human skin would be left, its only goal to hunt and maul and kill while spreading the disease further. In the late stages even their human appearance assumed more and more beast-like qualities. In the end they changed permanently. A few retained their minds while others degenerated into little more than rabid, bloodthirsty animals. Those who retained a semblance of their intelligence were the most dangerous and generally led the packs werewolves instinctively formed. Some like Greyback embraced the change and glorified it. It gave them additional power and control, made them somewhat resistant to magic and allowed them to transform at least partially without the help of the full moon. Others tried to live as humans until the change overtook them and they succumbed to the beast.

It was these properties of the disease that made lycanthropy such a feared illness; the uncertainty if and when a loved one would turn into a monster that only hid behind a human mask. More than one family who had tried to simply isolate a victim during the full moon had fallen prey to the werewolf when the disease progressed far enough. Of course, thanks to the high individual variance that wasn't common knowledge. Wolfsbane Potion wasn't really a solution, either. It prevented the werewolf from losing his mind during the monthly transformations, but did nothing against the creeping, fundamental mental change. Besides, even properly brewed it was toxic long-term.

Draco wasn't sure what to do about that. The general treatment of werewolves was terribly unfair to the victims, but they did pose an incalculable danger to everyone around them. Even the older Draco had learned of no way to truly cure lycanthropy. In the future they had found a way to cure the freshly bitten with some chance of success, but it didn't work once the first transformation took place.

'_I wish the day would finally end.'_

After the speeches ended the casket with his grandfather's remains was levitated some distance into the woods to the special burial grove the Malfoy family maintained. Thankfully only his family and the few close friends of his grandfather entered there. Setting the casket down on a stone pedestal, everyone took a few steps back. Then Draco's father raised his wand and turned casket and body into a cloud of ash. A conjured breeze scattered it between the trees. A gravestone would be erected at another location to serve as memorial, but it was here where the remains ended up.

"The earth gave birth to us and to the earth we return in death. Rest in peace and nurture the new life, Abraxas. You are now gone from this world, but not forgotten. We remember." Alan MacDougal intoned. Being the oldest of Abraxas' friends it fell to him to lead the ceremonies.

A few minutes of silence followed. Most European wizards in general and Draco's family in particular didn't follow any specific religion. There was some druidic influence and earth mysticism, but nothing that resembled any of the organized muggle religions. Rituals and beliefs often varied somewhat between families, but the general attitude was to keep the spirits of the dead and of nature calm and other possibly existing higher powers safely out of their lives.

All too soon they returned to the manor where a lot of visitors still lingered. Guest after guest came to give them their condolences. Draco just wanted for the day to end.

* * *

><p>"Our condolences, Lord Malfoy. Fate was cruel to strike your father down just after he had recovered from… his illness." Lord Nott and Lord Greengrass had finally cornered him, not that Lucius minded too much. It felt good to be called Lord Malfoy and given the respect that was his due.<p>

Lucius carefully kept the smile from his face. He knew better than to give himself away. Nott and Greengrass might suspect something, but they had no proof. "It is truly a tragedy. Without those filthy beasts my father would have surely enjoyed many more years as Lord Malfoy. I can only hope I will be able to steer House Malfoy in the proper direction without his guidance."

The elderly Nott inclined his head. "There always comes a point when the young generation has to leave the shadow of the previous one. A session of the Wizengamot will take place soon after Easter. Your inauguration has already been placed on the agenda."

Greengrass was more direct. "Can we expect some change in the stance of House Malfoy? I hesitate to speak ill of the dead, but in the last years your father sometimes chose a… not entirely reasonable course of action."

"I always felt my father's views were somewhat… detached from reality. We spoke about that often, I remember. There will be some adjustments, after proper consideration, of course."

"Of course." Both men nodded and left, leaving Lucius free to be sought out by the next guest.

Lucius greatly enjoyed the day. Ever since the Ministry had informed him of Abraxas' death he was almost giddy with pleasure. Finally, finally his father was out of his life. It had taken far too long, but finally the meddlesome old man was gone. The children were obviously distraught, but sooner or later they would get over the death of the old codger. Lucius disapproved of some things the old man had taught them or allowed to do anyway. For example, that Ravenclaw mudblood friend of Draco would have to be cut off. Using the mudbloods as information sources was bad enough, but actual friendship was intolerable.

'_Well, the mudblood has been petrified for some months. Perhaps the friendship has cooled without constant contact.'_

Shoving those thoughts to the side, Lucius continued to enjoy the evening. The power over the family now belonged to him. All the money and resources of House Malfoy were now his to control.

* * *

><p>With a pulse of pure white light the Malfoy heart stone accepted Draco as the new head of the family, absorbing the drops of blood the boy had sprinkled upon it. Once upon a time it had been a head-sized formation of clear quartz, but now it was anything but a normal rock. A central large hexagonal crystal was based in an irregular cluster of smaller crystals. Filled by a magical white inner light it had rainbows constantly running through the prisms making up its structure, bathing the room in a constantly moving and changing mixture of colored light.<p>

Generations of Malfoys had given their blood and bound part of their power to the stone. It was one of the responsibilities of the head of the family to make sure that blood of every newborn child was used as soon as possible in a ritual to strengthen the connection anew. Even without that a descendent would be connected to the heart stone, but over the generations the connection would grow weaker until it would disappear after three or four unbound generations.

There was another ritual to take control as head of the family, the very ritual Draco had just performed. Every Malfoy with the appropriate knowledge and access to the stone could do that irrespective of other factors. It would lead to conflict if two people laid claim at the same time; which was why information was tightly controlled. There was a simple reason his father hadn't done it: Lucius didn't know about the heart stone's existence. Abraxas had never trusted Lucius enough to share that knowledge. The other Draco had only learned about it decades later after a lot of research and following hidden hints.

Concentrating on the stone, Draco sought out the existing connections leading away from it.

'_There are Father and Aquila. Mother is there too, but the connection is clearly different.'_

That wasn't surprising considering that Narcissa was originally only bound to the Black heart stone. Marriage included a ritual transfer of authority, not that most of the participants recognized it as such. At the current time his mother had two connections with the Malfoy one being the dominating one. The Black heart stone probably recognized Sirius as its master (not that the man knew about the existence of heart stones), but Draco lacked detailed information. Every heart stone was different, the particulars differed greatly between families. Arcturus had left him only vague hints before he died; he had considered Draco too young to learn everything. He still knew that the Black heart stone had some sort of automatic change of ownership when the old master died. At some point in the future he would have to search for it.

With a soft sigh Draco stopped. Currently he had no direct use for the heart stone. It wasn't possible to forcibly control family members; the heart stones hadn't been created with a tyranny in mind. No, they served as a tool to pool the magical resources of a family. Its main applications consisted of long-term ritualistic magic that was otherwise impossible. In an emergency Draco could draw additional magical power from the stone, but aside from that it had virtually no combat applications. It wasn't some sort of ultimate weapon.

'_I probably should leave. Riding back will take me some time and I don't want them searching for me. It was difficult enough to go for an extended ride alone.'_

Unfortunately, Draco being the magical head of the family had absolutely no bearing on his legal status. The heart stones were a closely guarded secret of the few families possessing one, using their power openly was unthinkable. For almost all intents and purposes Lucius was the head of the family. Draco could now forcibly wrest away control of some of the family magic-based wards from Lucius, but he hoped to keep his father ignorant of the true facts. Most wards on their lands were not connected to the heart stone anyway. The Malfoys had always been too paranoid to create a single point of failure. Of course, Abraxas had taught him all the secrets of those unconnected wards, too. The ultimate loyalty of the house elves was an open question; their bond was independent of the heart stone. They clearly disliked his father, but he was the senior Malfoy alive.

Draco sighed again. His grandfather's untimely death had created so many problems. Not the least had it ruined the only way to bring Harry to safety.

'_I swear to you Grandfather, I will find the people responsible.'_

Someone had ordered his grandfather's death. Greyback wouldn't have gone after Abraxas without someone paying him. Who had it been? There were a lot of possible suspects, but fewer than in case of the poisoning. The werewolf had been a monster and not that many would have willingly employed his services. Assassinations happened on occasion, but Greyback tended to be deliberately _messy_. Unfortunately the two surviving werewolves hadn't known anything as Draco had overheard from a conversation between his father and Fudge. If there had been intermediaries involved there was virtually no chance of finding the culprit.

The main suspects were the old Death Eaters. Voldemort had often employed Greyback; some of them would have been familiar with him. Furthermore, considering Lucius' leanings they all had reason to want Abraxas gone.

Dumbledore wasn't a primary suspect. The old man had a strange aversion against killing and didn't allow his followers to employ lethal means. Now, he wasn't above maneuvering people into a situation that would get them killed, but he wouldn't give the order for an assassination, even indirectly.

Another suspect was Draco's own father. He didn't want to believe that of Lucius, but it was a possibility. It was clear that Lucius had desired the Lordship and had been discontent with some of Abraxas' policies, but Draco had no way of knowing if he actually took steps to remove Abraxas.

At the present time there was nothing Draco could do to find the culprit, but he already knew that this would change. Someday in the future Draco would be good enough to scry the past. Then he would learn the truth and someone would pay.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Thanks for all the reviews.

Yes, dear readers, Abraxas now left to the Next Great Adventure. He will be missed. I hope his end was worthy of such a character.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 12**

Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, sighed tiredly when she put her signature on another document. Ever since Abraxas Malfoy's murder two weeks ago she had gotten hardly any sleep. The investigation some people insisted on was going nowhere with the two surviving werewolves knowing nothing and there being no other witnesses. During the last days she had received countless visitors who demanded her to do something about the 'werewolf threat'. She was virtually certain one or several of these 'concerned citizens' had paid Greyback and his pack for the murder. Although maybe, just maybe she was unfair about that. Someone like the late Lord Malfoy had never a shortage of enemies and it was always possible someone from outside Britain was responsible. The lack of leads certainly didn't do her standing in the Ministry any favors, but thankfully she had enough political capital and good enough connections to Minister Fudge to weather the storm. Well, she had been forced to hand over authority over Azkaban to the Minister's Office as a sort of bribe, but that was hardly a loss in her opinion.

A knock on the door caused her to look up. "Enter."

The door opened, revealing her chief secretary. "Madam Bones, Head Auror Scrimgeour is here for the scheduled meeting."

"Send him in, please."

A moment later Rufus Scrimgeour entered the office, greeting Amelia warmly. The first topic of their conversation was once again the Malfoy murder. There were no new insights, of course. Hopefully they would be able to close the pointless investigation in a week or two. After dealing with several other matters they arrived at the topic of the upcoming werewolf legislation.

"Undersecretary Umbridge and Stephenson from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures visited me yesterday. She wasn't happy when I told her that we will need drastically more funds if we are to try and round up all the feral werewolves. They are awfully good at staying hidden." Rufus explained.

Amelia grimaced slightly. That would interfere with her planned downsizing. Unfortunately that meant she would have to keep all the sycophants left over from the Bagnold administration instead of kicking them out. Amelia had come into office shortly after Fudge became Minister in 1990. Now it was the middle of 1993 and she still hadn't managed to rid herself of all the leftovers, either by firing them (sadly the least used option), easing them into early retirement or promoting them to positions where they couldn't do any harm. She didn't have an especially high opinion of Fudge's intelligence or competence outside of his talent for economics and playing the political game (a fact she carefully kept to herself), but he was heads and shoulders above Millicent Bagnold, The-Minister-who-won-the-war; or The-Minister-who-couldn't-find-her-own-behind-with-a-tracking-charm in Amelia's mind.

Bagnold had driven the government deep into debt. That had been reasonable in the after-war rebuilding, but she had continued running a massive deficit and expanding the Ministry beyond all reason even when the tax revenues reached a fifteen-year high. Three years later they still hadn't managed to pay off even a tenth of the debts, but at least they had shifted the money owed from the goblins to the wizarding families and other creditors. Giving those vicious little monsters even the slightest lever to influence policy was unwise in the extreme. The last Goblin war had ended in a stalemate, but barely. It was one of the reasons Fudge was always trying to be accommodating to the rich families (and the main reason Amelia had become Head of the largest, most influential department of the Ministry). It had not been easy to drive Bagnold from office and required a political coalition and several compromises that still caused her headaches. Unfortunately, that was pretty much standard in the byzantine politics of the Ministry.

Her long-time ally had interpreted her facial expression correctly. "I know, Amelia, I know, but the werewolf problem has been allowed to fester far too long. We don't even know the current rate of infection after the Leach administration suspended the compulsory registration in the 60's. Many families keep werewolf attacks secret, letting the problem grow and grow. Stephenson painted a dark picture. Cases of Lycanthropy were on the decline before Leach became Minister, now nobody knows. The bleeding hearts under Dumbledore did a real number on disease control."

"Typical." Amelia sighed. "At least this time he won't be able to stop us completely. Cornelius and Delores had already something planned, but this murder gave us a far better opening."

Rufus nodded. "How is it going on the legislative side of things?"

"At the moment it looks like as if mandatory isolation is off the table for werewolves living in society. Dumbledore and his allies are still hemming and hawing, but Cornelius isn't inclined to listen to the man this time. Despite that there will be some sort of compromise in the end, unfortunately. I guess we will have to wait until the exact text is available. Is there anything else?" Amelia asked.

Rufus hesitated for a moment. "There is another matter. Do you remember Auror trainee Nymphadora Tonks?"

"The metamorphagus, yes. She should be finishing her second year of Auror training by now and be assigned a mentor. I believe Alastor Moody volunteered to take her under his wing. What about her?"

The leonine man before her sighed. "She was among the first to arrive on the scene when the disturbance was detected. As you know one of the surviving werewolves attacked and almost managed to bite her. I fear she didn't take it well."

Amelia winced. The scene of the murder had been one of the worst she had seen in the last decade. The entire alley had looked like it had been painted in blood and liberally strewn with body parts. The late Lord Malfoy had exacted a high price for his life before he went down. His body had been almost completely ripped to pieces at the time of his death. Being unexpectedly attacked by a rabid werewolf under these circumstances was nightmare fuel.

"How bad is it?"

"Very. I gave her time off and had her see a mind healer. She is mostly recovered, but each time we try combat practice she gets the shakes. Reacting to incoming calls causes a panic attack. The healer doesn't know if it will ever get better. She's useless as an Auror under these circumstances." Rufus admitted unhappily. "It's a real shame; the girl had a lot of potential. Normally I would have to turn her out. I can't keep her if she isn't able to do the job and I wondered if you…"

The grey-haired witch nodded in understanding. Since the young woman hadn't yet completed the training she would be kicked out of the programs without benefits. Considering her situation that was very harsh and would close many doors to future employment. "Send her to me. I can use her as another secretary for now and will find something more fitting later."

Rufus looked relieved. "Thank you, Amelia, I knew I could depend on you."

A few minutes later Amelia was once again alone in her office and working through another stack of documents. It was only five hours, three meetings and seven stacks of documents later that she could finally floo home. A shower and a good meal later made her feel considerable better.

"Is there anything I should know about?" she asked the head elf while she sat comfortably in an armchair before the blazing chimney.

The elf told her that several letters and a package had arrived earlier that day.

'_Better to not let it pile up.'_

With a small sigh she stood up and moved to the room where the elves had left the mail. Carefully checking it for any spells or other surprises Amelia went through the letters. Most of them were only invitations for social events, but some of them were private correspondence with her old friends. She would have to make time to answer those soon. The package seemed to be a large stack of documents. A letter was enclosed on top.

_Dear Madam Bones,_

_I know we were never on the best of terms, but I find myself in quite some predicament. If you receive this I will no longer be in this world. I cannot say what led to my death or who is responsible; I fear I have made quite a lot of enemies in the course of my long life. Enclosed in this package you will find a collection of material regarding Dumbledore and Voldemort. Yes, I fear the Dark Lord is still alive and plotting his return. The esteemed Headmaster knows this and is making plans of his own, dangerous plans that involve young Harry Potter to an unreasonable degree. Included here you will find all the proof I was able to gather. Please read and form your own opinion. If this is not public knowledge by the time of my death or disappearance I know I will have failed in my plans. The rest of my family knows nothing of this, but my old friend Alan MacDougal received the same information._

_Why did I sent this to you do you ask? The answer is simple: While we never saw eye-to-eye on many issues I always respected you and your independence. You are steel in a world of fools. I trust in you to do what is best for our world._

_With best regards_

_Abraxas Malfoy_

Her interest piqued, Amelia began reading through the material, paying no heed to the late hour. A few minutes later she began swearing viciously. When she finished in the early hours of morning her voice felt hoarse and she wanted to kill a certain Headmaster.

'_Widespread use of mind magic, concealment of crimes and worse things; can I make this public or somehow get Harry away from him?'_

No, she couldn't. Dumbledore had covered his tracks well. There was no absolute proof for most things, at least not enough that would stand up in court against a national hero like him. There were enough other people (like those Muggle relatives of Potter) who would take the fall. A master occlumens like Dumbledore was immune against all forms of truth serums and the like. What she now knew might be enough to bring Dumbledore down under optimal circumstances, but the Fudge administration would be falling with him because of all the dirt he had on people. He might even manage to recover his position. She couldn't risk that. If what Abraxas had written was true the Death Eaters that had gone free were already spinning their webs. It would only play into Voldemort's hands if the man already lurked in the shadows somewhere. She couldn't even warn Fudge. The man had some strange Voldemort-phobia and would go into denial. Unfortunately he was currently the best man for the job; everyone else who might have enough backing to become Minister would be worse. She herself didn't have enough political capital, not yet.

'_I will have to step up Susan's occlumency training this summer and see what I can learn from her. She is one of Harry's friends, after all. Maybe I will be able to find something here at the Ministry. Probably not much, Dumbledore has too many people there. Idiots like Arthur Weasley would do nearly anything if the Headmaster asked, no matter the legality.'_

Honestly, what was the man thinking? One of the latest information included had been that Ginevra Weasley had been possessed by a Dark object… and that Arthur didn't think it necessary to report that or get her treatment. If she had been able to she would have fired Weasley as soon as she came into office, but he had too much backing by Dumbledore's crowd and the hassle wasn't really worth it. At least he couldn't do much damage in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. The only thing that had come out of Hogwarts was that Gilderoy Lockhart and Harry Potter had solved the problem of the Chamber of Secrets, but Lockhart had lost all his memories due to reasons unknown. She smelled a rat, but sadly she didn't have the backing to investigate against Dumbledore's wishes.

'_What to do, what to do?'_

It might be best if she fled Britain with Susan… but she couldn't bring herself to do that. She felt a responsibility for their society. Amelia wondered why Abraxas didn't come to her earlier; together they might have been able to do something. Then again, before her change of heart after her two brothers and their families died in the war she had been one of those who looked up to Dumbledore. The Bones family had been firmly in Dumbledore's camp in the last war… and it had cost them dearly. Now only she and her niece were left.

Heck, even now her department was probably full of people who would go running to the Headmaster as soon as they learned anything. It was only relatively recently that she had recognized the scale of the problem and it frightened her. Those people didn't support Dumbledore because he paid them, but because they thought it was the right thing to do. Even confronted with proof of crimes people might simply go into denial. Dumbledore's cult of personality was scary. Abraxas might have thought it too dangerous to contact her if he saw any chance to do things on his own and from what it looked like he had planned on fleeing the country, not reforming it. One word in the wrong ears could bring everything crashing down. It would probably require a year-long smear campaign to even scratch the public image of the Headmaster.

'_I don't have enough proof and I don't know who I can trust. The only thing I can do is making contact with Lord MacDougal, keep my eyes open and make preparations while I wait for an opportunity.'_

* * *

><p>An unusually warm breeze blew over the Black Lake, causing Daphne's hair to flutter. The girl adjusted her grip on her broom slightly to compensate for the wind. It was a beautiful day in May, providing the group with excellent flying weather.<p>

Draco (who seemed to have recovered from the loss of his grandfather) was heading the small group, closely followed by Stephen and the freshly un-petrified Kevin. The two girls were lagging a bit behind, flying somewhat more sedately. Daphne wasn't a passionate flyer like Draco or all the Quidditch fanatics, but she too enjoyed the occasional jaunt. For once Morag had parted with her books; apparently steering a broom was one of the very few activities the red-headed girl couldn't perform with a piece of literature in her hands.

After a few minutes of flying the group arrived at their planned destination; a mountain meadow dotted with flowers with a spectacular view of the Black Lake. Hogwarts was out of sight behind a mountain, though. Still, the spot technically still was on the school grounds (Morag had looked it up) and therefore they were allowed to visit it without specifically asking anyone of the staff. As second year students they were allowed the use of their brooms at any time outside of classes.

"I still can't believe I missed half the school year. I'm really glad Headmaster Dumbledore exempted me and the other victims from taking the exams." Kevin remarked after a while. Suddenly he seemed to realize something. "What about my parents? Didn't they become worried when I didn't write them?"

Daphne and the others could only shrug. She hadn't thought about that. Draco looked decidedly uncomfortable, though. "I don't think they actually know something happened to you, Kevin." he said slowly.

"What?!"

"I'm not completely sure, but it involves the Statute of Secrecy. The obliviators modify the memories of muggles who saw something magical. There have to be some measures in place that prevent the parents or siblings of muggleborns to reveal something about our world. I think it very likely that they or another department is responsible for handling such cases and they did prevent your parents from realizing something was wrong. Maybe it was even someone from the school staff. Morag, do you know something about the legal situation?"

Morag shrugged. "Sorry, I'm not really interested in law books. The Hogwarts Library doesn't have a lot of them anyway."

"That's unfortunate. I'm not really familiar with the Ministry policies regarding muggleborns and their muggle relatives. I wouldn't bring the petrification up with your parents if I were you; that could lead to all sorts of trouble. By the way, Kevin, did they actually give you a choice when you received your Hogwarts letter?" Draco asked.

Kevin frowned as he tried to remember. "No, I don't think so. Professor McGonagall was the one who visited us. She just seemed to assume my parents would agree. I mean, magic is really cool."

"I don't think you actually ever had a choice. They would have compelled your parents to agree." Stephen chimed in. "I remember my mother ranting about something called the 'no child left behind'-policy. They don't allow magical children to go without an education. I wonder what happens when Hogwarts expels you."

Kevin looked visibly disturbed. "How can they do that?"

Draco sighed. "Because it's very, very easy for wizards to mentally manipulate muggles. For a compulsion or memory modification spell to affect a wizard it needs either enormous skill or a lot of power behind it, enough that most wizards can't really do that to each other. A muggle on the other hand? Absolutely everyone who can use a wand and knows the right spells can do that. Most of the more effective ones were developed at the end of the 17th century. Just think of muggle repelling charms. They are a standard feature of every magical dwelling."

What followed was an animated discussion about what probably happened to Kevin's parents and what could be done about it, but none of them had any ideas.

Then the blond Malfoy held up a hand, interrupting the chatter. "There is another reason I wanted to come here today. I have things to tell you that I don't want anyone to overhear. Before his murder Grandfather told me some things. I don't know everything, but he thought about leaving the country. Things will probably get bad in the next years."

"How bad?" Stephen asked.

"Another wizarding war bad." Draco replied bleakly. "Grandfather didn't tell me why, but he thought either You-know-who would return or another Dark Lord would rise. In his opinion there won't be much resistance. Our country is still too damaged from the last war and the ground for an easy takeover is being laid by certain people."

Daphne suddenly felt very cold despite the warm weather. She didn't harbor the illusion that she was some sort of political genius – she knew she wasn't, not at thirteen years of age – but she had grown up in a politically connected pureblood household. Thanks to that she knew at least the general picture: who was important, who was openly allied with whom and what the political views of certain people were. Now that she thought about the matter she had to agree with Draco.

"Draco is right." Daphne said. "Families like mine that were neutral in the last war are entering alliances with those families who supported or are rumored to have supported You-know-who. You-know-who's allies took a beating, but the people who opposed him are worse off. Most of the people in the Ministry who took a stand didn't make it through the war alive. There won't be any effective opposition."

"What about Dumbledore?" Stephen asked. Daphne knew that while he was a pureblood his family wasn't important in a political sense. They were involved in business, but nothing more. He wouldn't have any in-depth knowledge.

"Dumbledore is not that well-liked among the neutral families." Morag offered her opinion. "He led the opposition against You-know-who, but my grand-uncle said it was safer to be fighting against him than for him and not because of anything special You-know-who's side did. He said if You-know-who didn't disappear when he did he would have won. The Ministry won despite of Dumbledore, not because of him."

Stephen looked as if he wanted to object, but in the end he stayed silent. Outside of the old families Dumbledore was generally held in very high esteem. Daphne thought that was very strange. She certainly didn't see anything from Dumbledore that justified this mindless faith, but then again she had been born towards the end of the war and had no conscious memory of it. As a second year student she only saw the man at meals, but she knew he gave some lectures to the sixth and seventh years.

"So… what can we do about that?" Kevin asked.

Draco let out a short snort of laughter. "Absolutely nothing. We are children; we have no way of influencing politics." He grew serious. "Britain will be a very bad place to be for muggleborn in a few years. Kevin, you said your parents work in Spain?"

The boy nodded. "Not at the moment, but they wanted to leave Britain permanently after this summer."

"I think you should go with them and change school."

Kevin blinked. "You can do that? I asked Professor Flitwick and he said I couldn't change school, something about Spain's magical education system."

"Normally you can't." Morag answered. "They have a different policy regarding muggleborn there; or rather they don't have muggleborn. They don't introduce those with magic-less parents to our world; they simply handle it like other breaches of the Statute of Secrecy. Most children don't display more than half a dozen events of accidental magic if even that. Left without training the magic grows dormant. Anyway, to enter a school there you need a sponsor. Daphne, Draco, your families won't be willing to sponsor Kevin, won't they?"

Daphne shook her head. "You know my family's stance. Without you, Draco and Stephen around I wouldn't even be allowed to talk to Kevin more than absolutely necessary for classes."

Draco grimaced. "Grandfather was pretty liberal. He didn't really care about the blood status of my friends. My father and mother though… They haven't said anything yet, but I'm sure they won't let me stay friends with you, Kevin. They have ways of learning things and making sure I obey."

Morag sighed. "My family mostly doesn't care, but I think I can get my grand-uncle to sponsor your entry into the best Spanish school. You're a pretty good student, after all."

"Stop, stop, stop. You make it as if me leaving is a done deal. You're my friends; I don't want to leave you." Kevin shouted agitatedly.

Daphne exchanged glances with the others. Stephen looked bewildered, Morag resigned and Draco sad. "It would be the best decision for you. We don't want to force you, but if you wait until the signs are obvious it might be too late. Just look what happened already in our time at Hogwarts. Last year a troll got into the castle, this year you were petrified. What will happen next year? Dementors? Acromantula? Death Eaters? We can't leave because Hogwarts is still **the** school in Britain for upper society, but you can."

Morag put her hand on Kevin's shoulder. "Just think about it for now. During the summer I and some of my family will visit you to discuss your options."

The journey back to the castle was silent; the good cheer of the warm day had evaporated. Daphne used the opportunity to think about other things. Namely, how she could get a certain boy to notice her. She had begun noticing boys in _that_ way months ago and she was being noticed by boys in return. Those silly Valentine dwarves had been proof enough. Unfortunately, the boy she was interested in didn't seem to be aware of her specific interest. Well, perhaps the already planned visits or the midsummer ball would offer an opportunity. Only half a month of school was left, after all. She could hardly wait until the holidays began.

* * *

><p>Harry let out a sigh as the door slammed shut behind him. He hated the summer holidays. All his magical stuff had been locked away and he had no idea how he could complete his homework without the books. He wondered about his uncle's and aunt's newly hostile behavior. The last summer hadn't been exactly pleasant, but they had tolerated each other at the end. The Dursleys had even been impressed when Justin's parents picked him up. Unfortunately, it seemed as if their relationship had regressed again.<p>

'_I will have to find an opportunity to pick the lock on the cupboard and get my books and writing utensils.'_

He sighed again. This year he wouldn't be able to spend part of the summer with Justin; his parents had taken him on a world tour and he wouldn't be back until a few days before Hogwarts started again. Pure and simple, his life sucked.

* * *

><p>Draco's face was bright red when he emerged from the meditation trance. The memories he had just viewed had been labeled 'Do not watch until puberty' with very good reason. He would <strong>never<strong> be able to look at girls in the same way as before. Grandfather and his parents had made sure he was familiar with all the relevant information in a theoretical sense, but watching (and feeling!) the memories of his other self was a different beast entirely.

Practically all muggleborns assumed the morals of the wizarding world were Victorian (not that the public image matched the reality anyway). That wasn't completely false, but it wasn't really right either. The muggle world had certainly influenced things when some fad caught on or when a muggle-loving administration came into power, but by and large the worlds had developed differently since the wizards went into hiding in the late 17th century. Most importantly, sexual morality had been much less stringent in the wizarding world for most of the time. Only very recently had the muggles outstripped the wizards again in that regard. For all the emphasis on blood and family no one especially cared about a person's sexual preferences or what they did behind closed doors. Means of birth control were easily available as were ways of checking a child's paternity. Of course, there existed ways around that, but that wasn't the point.

'_I didn't even know some of those positions were possible.'_

Slowly getting his blush under control, Draco carefully filed the newly unlocked memories away. There was a lot of stuff aside from adult things, some quite vile. In fact, Draco would have been happier not knowing about some things. It seemed the other Draco had stuffed everything that might be remotely helpful into those memories in addition to some really, really disturbing information about the future and other things. If he had seen some of those memories as a young child it would probably have traumatized him deeply. Now it was merely unpleasant. He so didn't want to know about the exact way to harvest a person's life force while murdering them to use it as fuel for ritual magic.

Finally he was finished sorting through the newly available stuff and fell back on his bed. It was the middle of the night and he probably should get some sleep, but there were still memories to unlock. Originally he had wanted to do that during the school year, but with all the basilisk trouble and the death of his grandfather he had never found the peace of mind necessary for the task. Now, a few days after arriving home, he had finally reached the necessary calm. Ironically his new insights were promptly threatening to take it away again.

Draco had been aware he was good-looking and that girls had begun noticing him. The many Valentine messages he had received were pretty much a dead-giveaway. He had been partially aware of his own awakening interest, but there had always been more important matters on his mind. What didn't really register until he viewed his memories in light of his new experiences was how many girls sent him glances… and that his friend Daphne was among them.

The possibility had honestly never entered Draco's mind. He had seen her as one of his closest friends, but nothing more. The speculation by his peers (and the adults since last midsummer ball) had just been that. Now though it seemed Daphne saw him as more than purely as a friend. Without his new insights he would have missed that completely.

'_At least my other self gave me a lot of tips on what to do and what not. Hopefully I can get through my teenage years without making a complete idiot out of myself now.' _

Well, it wasn't as if he minded. He liked Daphne and she was very pretty. At some point he had planned to start dating anyway. He could only hope his father would refrain from a betrothal, not that such a thing had deterred his other self who had been betrothed to Pansy Parkinson for a few years. It was pretty clear to him that it was unlikely his first relationship would last forever, but he would wait and see how it developed. The other Draco didn't truly love anyone and had made no recommendations in that regard aside from avoiding a marriage to Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's younger sister who would start Hogwarts next term.

Although, his other self had included a not entirely serious list of things he should do if he got the opportunity. 'Get into Daphne Greengrass' pants' had been near the top of the list, right there with 'do it with the Patil twins'. It seemed the other Daphne had always given his other self the cold shoulder. Draco found that very funny.

'_Enough of that. Only one more package of memories to go.'_

Once again entering a trance, Draco began to decipher the last of the memories his other self had sent him. Suddenly and without warning he found himself in the parlor of the manor. He had almost forgotten it, but this was exactly what had happened seven years ago when his older self visited him.

"Hello Draco."

And there he was. The decrepit older version of Draco was sitting in his grandfather's armchair.

"If you're viewing this you have exhausted all I sent you. I hope it will make enough of a difference for your future. Grandfather should be dead by now; you should be around thirteen or fourteen."

"Actually, I turned thirteen just two weeks ago and Grandfather would still be alive if he hadn't been murdered." Draco remarked; not that his older self could hear him.

"I held one thing back that would have been able to change things greatly: The location of Peter Pettigrew."

That caused Draco to narrow his eyes. He had already known that Sirius was innocent, but his family had already done everything possible to get him out of jail or retried without result. Pettigrew had been the traitor who gave the Potter's location to Voldemort. The man was a rat animagus and in hiding in his animal form somewhere. Draco had assumed his older self had been unable to give him an exact location. Finding a single rat without any more clues was pretty much impossible, but presenting Pettigrew might have been the only option with any hope of success.

"There is a very good reason for this. I don't doubt our grandfather could have freed Sirius Black with Pettigrew at hand and that was something I couldn't allow." The memory of the old man sighed. "You see, Sirius is a complete idiot. Firstly, after Voldemort killed the Potters he was the first one at the scene. Instead of making sure Harry was safe he followed his thirst for revenge and handed him over to Hagrid, a man who can't use most magic. The magic resistance of a half-giant is useless against the killing curse. Even after all that happened to him and Harry he trusted Dumbledore completely, the man responsible for Harry's atrocious upbringing and who didn't lift a finger to truly help Sirius in any legal way. He fled Britain at the end of my third year. What he should have done is taking Harry with him. Then in my fourth year the Triwizard tournament happened and once again he did nothing effective, like suggesting to Harry he should simply give up on the tasks after a token effort. As soon as it was clear that Voldemort had been reborn he should have taken Harry and fled, but instead he let himself be roped in for a new version of Dumbledore's useless Order of the Phoenix. The advice he gave Harry was often counterproductive." The old Draco looked disgusted. "Sirius is unfortunately one of Dumbledore's true believers. I don't know if the old fool used mind-magic on him, but from what I saw of my past it wasn't necessary. Sirius hates most of his family and the old ways. He would never have worked with Grandfather or one of the other Blacks if he had been acquitted, bringing him further under Dumbledore's influence. I hope by the time you hear this Grandfather managed to somehow gain custody of Harry, but I can't rely on that. You will have to formulate your own strategy to deal with the man."

For a moment the older Draco fell silent. Then he looked directly at the real Draco.

"You are probably pretty angry now that I didn't allow this knowledge to come to you or tell you where Pettigrew is. Sirius is family, after all. This is understandable." The old man sighed again. "There is another reason for this secrecy. I didn't want you to have to make the decision of deliberately keeping an innocent man in jail. You will have to make life-and-death decisions in the future and kill people with your own wand. I tried to spare you from this as long as I could. Please forgive an old man this sentimentality for innocence long gone." He smiled sadly. "I won't speak to you again. Goodbye, Draco."

From one moment to another the vision faded and Draco was again sitting on his bed, breathing heavily. He was indeed very angry, but he understood. In all likelihood he would have freed Sirius if he had known. A free Sirius would have doomed all schemes to gain custody of Harry and it was virtually certain the man would have simply allowed Dumbledore to do as he liked. Granted, it hadn't worked anyway, but his older self couldn't have known that. Some part of Draco was glad that he didn't have to make that decision. His grandfather had spoken often of the weight of such and similar things. Well, it wasn't as if he could do anything about that now.

With a sigh he mentally turned towards the rest of the information that had now become unlocked. There was a lot of stuff, most of it highly dangerous magical knowledge that was mostly beyond his current level of understanding. Even a tiny hint of that would have him obliviated or imprisoned for life in the Department of Mysteries. Other information (some of which was extremely horrifying) would only become relevant in a few decades and was dependant on him succeeding in saving Harry from Dumbledore's clutches and eliminating both the old fool and Tom Riddle. For now he locked it deliberately away in a corner of his mind. It wasn't useful at the moment and he could do without the nightmares.

Sleep didn't come easy that night and he woke again at an early hour. Not wanting to remain in bed, Draco got up and ready for the day. A few minutes later he was sitting down at the breakfast table. Apparently the elves had noticed him leaving his rooms and started preparing the meal. A moment later one of the elves appeared, handing him today's Daily Prophet.

"Thank you, Dobby."

"Young master is too gracious." The elf gave him a bow before he left the room. All the elves loved Draco and Aquila. For a moment Draco considered the differences t o the other Dobby he knew about. That one had been so unhinged by years of abuse that he actively worked against the family and tried to break their bond; something practically unthinkable for house elves. In contrast, his Dobby was a little strange (for a house elf) from time to time but unquestioningly loyal to him and Aquila.

Sometimes he wondered who the elves would obey if push came to shove. They were bound to the Malfoy family as a whole; meaning they generally accepted the head of the family as highest authority. While his grandfather had been alive it had been clear, but now it was an open question. Legally Lucius was head of the family, but Draco was the one bound to the heart stone. On the other hand the elf bond was independent of that and he was still rather young. Draco was pretty certain the elves disliked his father rather strongly. They could probably choose a side if it came to a conflict, but that wasn't anything he wanted to test anytime soon.

Shaking these thoughts off, Draco started to read the newspaper. The first thing to catch his attention was an article about the Weasleys with a picture of the whole family.

_MINISTRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE_

_Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw. A delighted Mr. Weasley told the Daily Prophet, "We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank." The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend._

Draco made a thoughtful face. _'I wonder if that was rigged. Perhaps because of the basilisk mess? I hope Ginny will enjoy the vacation.'_

For a moment Draco's gaze paused on the Weasel's pet rat that was clearly visible in the picture. Was it possible that this was Pettigrew?

'_Unlikely. What are the chances for something like that? Arthur and his wife would have to be complete morons not to thoroughly test a stray rat before they take it in as a pet. It could carry some disease, after all. I think being an animagus would show up on quite a number of standard tests they do at pet shops. Besides, a normal rat lives only a few years. The Weasleys would surely notice if this rat simply continued living.'_

Turning over the page, Draco soon forgot about the matter. There were always other news to catch his interest.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Thanks for all the reviews.

Free time to write and inspiration is rather scarce at the moment, unfortunately, meaning updates will continue at a rather slow pace.

Fudge isn't a complete moron here, he's actually rather competent in his comfort zone. Likewise, Amelia Bones isn't the be-all and end-all paragon of good.

No Tonks in the Order of the Phoenix in my story! I can't imagine any government liking having people from such a vigilante group among them. Did the Order actually do anything effective against Voldemort? Guarding the prophecy and Harry's escape from Privet Drive were both incredibly moronic plans and resulted both in unnecessary losses.

I'm a bit sorry about my rather negative portrayal of Sirius in this chapter, but beginning in the night of the Potter's death he failed Harry pretty badly. There might have still been Death Eaters about and leaving Hagrid alone to defend Harry isn't a good decision, all other considerations aside. Well, perhaps Draco will beat some sense into Sirius at a later date; I'm not entirely decided.

A word on the relationships: As I stated in the first chapter of this story most of the cast will go through multiple relationships and experiment a bit in the course of the story. That means it's unlikely their first girlfriend/boyfriend will be the one they stay with. They are teenagers, after all.

So long.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 13**

Sirius Black stared at the picture in the Daily Prophet he had gotten. It couldn't be and yet it was. The rat was alive. The damned traitor was ALIVE. He had thought he had blown himself up (while blaming Sirius for the damage and deaths in the process), but obviously he had been mistaken. The rat had simply faked his death and hidden. Now he was playing the pet for that boy.

'_Weasley… Hogwarts…'_

Slowly a plan to escape took shape in Sirius' mind. He would kill the rat even if that was the last thing he ever did.

* * *

><p>Daphne gave Draco a beaming smile before they separated and returned to their families. The children's part of the ball was winding down now that the last dance had ended. She knew performing the rather complicated formal dances had been tiring, but her elation mostly kept her from feeling the exhaustion. This year's midsummer ball was a full success in her book. Suffice to say, her relatively daring décolleté dress robe (that was still safely inside the confines of propriety) showing off her developing assets had fulfilled its intended purpose. Draco most definitely <em>noticed<em> her now. He had kept his eyes mostly on her face as proper decorum dictated in such a public setting, but his interest had been clearly recognizable for someone like her who knew him well. Well, there had been a lot of eyes she had drawn, but that was more or less incidental.

"Well done, Daphne." her grandmother Eleanor greeted her. She didn't need to elaborate the point further; both of them were well aware Daphne had achieved everything she had set out to do.

Daphne grinned and inclined her head before sitting down, careful not to crinkle her dress. After a bit of recovery she would seek out Draco and the others while the adults had their fun, but for now she needed a breather.

Looking around, she spotted her little sister Astoria talking with some girls her age; Miranda Macmillan, Fiona Smith and Caroline Avery if she wasn't mistaken. The ball had been her little sister's debut in society now that she was eleven years of age. From what Daphne had been able to observe she had comported herself well, but her mother still kept a watchful eye on her from some distance away.

Neville Longbottom and Susan Bones were notably absent… again. Judging from her Hogwarts impression of the boy that was probably still wise. Neville was clumsy, forgetful and rather shy. He had gotten markedly better over the last two years, but Daphne supposed his grandmother didn't want to take the risk just yet. Augusta Longbottom was a demanding, stern woman who didn't forgive even the slightest failure. The (unfounded) rumors that her grandson had been a squib had probably rankled her enormously. Shyness and awkwardness in social situations was probably the reason for Susan's absence, too.

Daphne's musings were interrupted when her grandmother leant over and whispered in a conspiratorial tone. "Tell me, did Draco invite you to a tête-à-tête in the moonlight? I will cover for you if you want. It is a very romantic night; just the right time for a first kiss and maybe a little more…"

The blond girl blushed. "Grandmother, it's far too early to talk about something like that. He just noticed me as more than a friend."

"Of course, of course. We don't want to scare away your young man, don't we? Boys can be so skittish at this age. Better not to press the issue unduly." The elderly woman whispered in a sagely tone before winking. "Trust me, before long it will be hard to separate him from you, dear. He didn't look like he will put up much of a resistance."

Daphne didn't answer, instead drinking a sip of water and trying to control her blush. Ever after she had enlisted the help of her mother and grandmother to get Draco's attention her entire family not so subtly hinted at more. The pressure for her to secure a good match was still low all things considered, but it was there. At least her grandmother always maintained a slightly humorous tone that told Daphne she was doing it more to tease than to pressure her. Unfortunately the same couldn't be said of her mother. If she got her way Daphne and Draco would be formally betrothed at the next opportunity, a development Daphne tried to avoid for now.

She was completely aware that she probably would be betrothed to somebody before she reached her majority. It wasn't certain she would actually marry that person; betrothal agreements got broken all the time when the political or monetary balance shifted and the families called it off in favor for a more promising match (or one of the 'happy' betrothed decided to go against their family; each new scandal was eagerly awaited and gossiped about for months). They were little more than declarations of intent, at least at their age. Hogwarts was something of a sanctuary, too; no one batted an eye when people dated who they wanted there despite an existing betrothal, within reasonable limits of course. Since the Malfoys were one of the richest and most well-connected families obtaining a betrothal with Draco (and his sister Aquila to a lesser degree) was much sought after, but Draco's grandfather had always rejected such advances. Now that Draco's father had taken over it was possible that would change.

Still, Daphne hoped to get closer to him before family politics got in the way. Sometimes a betrothal led to the demise of an otherwise promising relationship. Draco was a close friend and she genuinely liked him. If their families took that as incentive for an arrangement there was nothing she could do about it. Besides, it was better to make a move early before their families chose someone else for them or if another ambitious girl made an attempt to gain Draco's affections. There were far worse people she could end up betrothed to.

* * *

><p>Ginny sighed exasperatedly while she watched the chaos in the Burrow from her seat in the living room. They were leaving for Egypt early tomorrow and her family still had not finished packing (excepting her, of course). The usual pre-Hogwarts excitement had nothing on this.<p>

"Mum, where did you put my trunk?" "It's still in the attic, George." "I'm Fred." "Sorry, dear. Arthur, what are you doing?" "I can't fit our clothes into the trunk." "Muuum, I don't want to wear that." "Mollywobbles, we won't be needing that. I'm sure they have quite tasty food in Egypt."

On and on it went. After a moment of listening Ginny shook her head, got up and left the house, seeking a bit of peace and quiet. The hubbub was incredible, especially because they would leave Britain for a month. One and a half year ago they had visited Charlie in Romania, but that had been only her and her parents. There had never been enough money for a complete family vacation outside Britain, but the prize her father had won in the Daily Prophet Grand Prize Galleon Draw made it possible. Still, her family was just so _unorganized_.

Sitting down at the edge of the pond, Ginny removed a letter from Aquila from her clothes. The Malfoy house elf Dobby had delivered it the day before last without any other member of her family noticing. She had read it immediately, of course, but she simply couldn't get enough.

_Dear Ginny,_

_The Ministry's midsummer ball was simply marvelous. I wish you could have been here, but as things are me describing everything will have to do. It started…_

A detailed description of the ball followed. The building, who had attended, what clothes people wore, everything was there. After reading it for the third time Ginny sighed, folded the parchment up and hid it in her clothes again. She would have to dispose of it later.

Another sigh escaped her. She wished she could have been there, but that world was closed to her… for now.

'_Well, it isn't as if I have anything to wear to such an occasion anyway.'_

Unfortunately her family was rather poor. It wasn't as if their father earned little; his job was actually quite well-paying. No, the problem was that neither of her parents could handle money properly. She had secretly taken a look at the books her parents used to keep track of their expenses (if you could call that chaos keeping track) and had been appalled. They never bought something expensive, true, but money flowed away here and there and everywhere. In the past she hadn't really noticed, but she had learned much in the last two years from the books Aquila had sent her and from personal contact at Hogwarts. The cursed diary had put a dent into things, but ever since Draco's grandfather had freed her from its influence she had renewed her friendship with Aquila. Ginny was convinced that even with her admittedly basic grasp of estate management she could do much better than her parents. It was only a question of careful planning and self-restraint.

Ginny let out an unladylike snort. _'Fat chance Mum or Dad would take my advice. They dote on me, but they never listen.'_

A prime example was the aftermath of the diary fiasco. She knew she didn't need to see a professional mind healer thanks to Aquila's grandfather, but her parents didn't know that. They just took Dumbledore's word that she would be fine. Just to test things Ginny had hinted that she would like to be examined at St. Mungo's, but her parents just assured her that everything was okay. It was really disheartening.

'_Perhaps I can speak with Bill or Charlie about it.'_

* * *

><p>Augusta Longbottom moved swiftly through the hallways of Longbottom Manor. Where had her grandson and the girl gotten to? It was almost time for the afternoon tea.<p>

Suddenly she heard voices and slowed her brisk walk. Apparently the children were in the memorial room. That was rather unusual.

"Interesting. Try the next one, Neville."

"That wand belonged to my great-uncle Harfang."

Augusta frowned slightly. There wasn't anything improper about Neville showing Hermione the wands of his forbearers, but normally that took only place when a couple was already in a relationship. The children were still rather young for that.

Slowing her step, Augusta approached the room carefully. She wanted to see what the children were doing. Just when she opened the door a crack Neville uttered an incantation, causing her to freeze. "_Avifors!"_

With a burst of electric blue light some small object changed into a bird. It flew a few times around the room before it landed and turned back into a paperweight. Augusta recognized the spell; it was taught in first year transfiguration class and revised in second year. She didn't care about that absurd Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery (in fact, she had expressly encouraged the children to use magic), but she did care that the children used the old wands for their games. It was disrespectful.

She was about to enter the room when she remembered something else. That spell was tested in the practical part of the end of year exams and Neville had done rather poorly there. Now though the spell had been performed flawlessly. Perhaps she should watch a few moments longer.

Her grandson had a completely perplexed expression on his face when he looked from the paperweight to the wand in his hand. "It's so easy, far better than any of the others."

Hermione had some sort of list in her hand. "Okay, that's a first. How about you try a few more spells?"

Augusta watched in amazement as her grandson performed several spells successfully. She knew he had always problems with magic, but now none of those difficulties seemed to exist any longer. Judging from Neville's reaction he hadn't expected this either.

Finally she shook herself out of her stupor and retreated silently and without the children noticing. This was surprising and unsettling. Never in a thousand years would she have expected that the wand of her son was the cause of her grandson's troubles. Frank's wand had never been difficult to use for anyone else; Augusta knew several of her son's auror colleagues had used it in an emergency and she herself could use it almost as easily as her own wand as could her cousin-in-law Enid and her husband Algie. It was one of the reasons she had given it to Neville. Her daughter-in-law Alice's wand was far more difficult to use; Neville hadn't been able to produce any effect with it at all. She had let Neville try some of the other wands of deceased relatives with similar results before they settled on one; Frank's wand had actually been the best match.

In contrast, Harfang's wand had always been virtually unusable by anyone else. The younger brother of her husband had been an exceptionally powerful wizard before he met his untimely end in a drunken duel. She had never considered letting Neville try his wand. Maybe she had made a mistake.

* * *

><p>Draco minutely adjusted the flame beneath the big gold cauldron until he was satisfied. Keeping the temperature exactly right was important. A glance at the clear liquid inside showed him that the substance was simmering gently, rainbow-colored lights from the mirrors and prisms overhead permeating it. The runic circle around the cauldron was flawless and completely intact; the weather would stay sunny for the next few days. Everything seemed to be working as it should. Now he had only to wait a week or two to reap the rewards of his latest project.<p>

The tinkling of a bell informed him that someone had entered the building serving as a laboratory, causing him to sigh. There wasn't anything incriminating here, but he would prefer if no one saw what he was doing. During the summer holidays he had a good amount of free time and his parents were absent often enough that he could make productive use of that time even without his grandfather there to cover for him.

He didn't hear any footsteps, but suddenly the voice of his sister reached his ears. "Here you are, Draco. I searched all over the manor for you."

Draco didn't give a start; by now he was used to his sister's ability to move almost completely noiselessly when she wanted. "Good morning Aquila, to what do I owe the peerless pleasure of your presence?"

"I'm bored. Entertain me."

Draco suppressed a sigh. He liked his sister; he really did, but sometimes she got on his nerves. "As you can see I'm a bit busy right now. I fear you're on your own. Didn't you invite the Carrow twins for this afternoon?"

Aquila dismissed his words with a wave of her hand. "That is later, this is now." She peered curiously at the arrangement. "What exactly are you doing here anyway?"

"I'm making candy."

That answer threw his sister for a loop. She gaped at him for a few moments before catching herself. An expression of disbelief appeared on her face. "You are making… candy?"

"Yes."

Aquila shook her head. "Let me be more precise. You… " She pointed at him. "… are making candy…" Aquila's pointing hand move to the big cauldron. "… in a big golden cauldron surrounded by some sort of runic circle and other knickknacks."

Draco nodded earnestly. "Yes. It's a special recipe. Here, try one. I prepared a small test run a few days ago. Be careful not to bite on them; they are very hard."

Taking a piece out of a bag on the table, he handed his sister the rainbow-colored sweet. Aquila examined the small piece of candy warily. It looked like a cross between rock candy and a gobstopper, being roughly spherical and translucent. The only indication of its magical origin was a slight, almost unnoticeable luminescence.

Apparently satisfied with her examination, Aquila popped the piece of candy into her mouth. After a few moments of sucking she began smiling. "This _is_ really good candy."

"I should hope so. As you can see it isn't easy to make. I found the recipe in one of the old potion journals of Great-Aunt Priscilla."

Aquila narrowed her eyes. "I hope you didn't simply decide to try it out. You know what Mother says about using unknown potions, rituals and spells."

Draco harrumphed haughtily. "Of course not. I checked it against several sources in the library before I began making it. The complete recipe wasn't there, of course, but the fundamental principles are sound. I fed a few pieces of the finished candy to some mice before I ate one myself."

His sister looked a little disappointed when she couldn't scold him. "Well, I suppose that's okay then." She sat down on one of the chairs, watching as Draco checked some of the enchanted mirrors and prisms that caught the sunlight.

After a minute Aquila apparently grew bored again. "You know, brother mine, I couldn't help but notice that you paid far more attention to Daphne than usual. Is there something between you? Maybe even a teeny tiny little kiss when you disappeared during the ball?"

He turned around and rolled his eyes. "Yes, I like Daphne. No, we haven't yet kissed, but I certainly wouldn't object."

Aquila pouted. "Teasing you is no fun. You are supposed to act embarrassed when I bring up the girl you like."

"I'm so sorry to spoil your amusement." Draco said with obviously faked sincerity before he turned back to the mirrors.

"Fine, be that way."

Draco sighed. "I'm just busy, sister. We can do something together as soon as I finish. I'll come and find you then."

"Okay. Don't forget it; you promised." Aquila chirped before she skipped out of the room.

The blond boy breathed a sigh of relief. Manipulating the enchantment so that the mirrors would follow the sun was a bit tricky. In truth this was his first foray into the realm of alchemy. His older counterpart had sent back a lot of knowledge, but Draco preferred to take it slow. There was always the danger that something had been damaged or lost during the transfer. He could do without a mistake with potential catastrophic consequences. With this recipe there couldn't really go anything wrong. If he made a mistake he would end up either with a cauldron full of crystallized sugar, a harmless liquid or something like that. There was no chance for anything more dangerous to happen than the cauldron boiling over.

Alchemy was the study of the elements and the analysis and transmutation of substances. Hogwarts had a class for sixth and seventh years taught by Dumbledore himself as an extension of Potions and Transfiguration class, but it was a very wide and complicated field with very few true practitioners left. Dumbledore had studied under Nicholas Flamel for a while without achieving much beyond intermediary skills. The older Draco had learned a lot about it in his later years. Well, to be precise his counterpart had snatched up all knowledge of all fields he could get like a madman. Most of it had been dug out from ruins or gathered by scrying the past. There weren't many secrets you could keep from an extremely skilled and determined scryer, but Draco himself was decades away from such a skill level. With what he had in his head he had the potential to become an alchemist, but for now he lacked the practice and experience to create more than the most basic products.

What he was currently doing was binding part of the concept of a sunny summer day into physical form. Aside from providing him with a tasty treat (and it was really good candy) he had several reasons for that. Training and testing his abilities with a relatively simple project was one of them, but more importantly the end product would help build up a slight resistance against a dementor's aura. Draco knew that in the other timeline they had been posted around Hogwarts in third year for some Merlin-forsaken reason and wanted to be prepared if it happened again. The candies wouldn't be much use against the direct presence of a dementor, but the diluted area effect was another matter.

Draco grimaced in distaste. At some point in the future he would have to do something about the dementors. They were a catastrophe waiting to happen, but unfortunately there were few methods that could destroy them, none of them without risks.

'_It shouldn't be long now until Sirius escapes Azkaban. I still wonder what exactly triggered the escape now; he had a decade to think of something.'_

Turning his thoughts to happier matters, a slight smile appeared on his face. Tomorrow he would meet with Daphne again.

* * *

><p>Amelia Bones watched intently as the mind healer conducted her examination of her niece Susan. The girl was currently sleeping and wouldn't remember the examination. It was better that way even if the girl had given her assent beforehand. Amelia dearly hoped that her worries were unfounded, but the late Lord Malfoy's letter had unsettled her. According to him Harry Potter had been subjected to mind-altering magic and it was very likely that her niece had been another victim, her being one of Harry's closest friends making her a logical target. Since Amelia had absolutely no talent in the mind arts (aside from the obligatory occlumency, of course) she had quietly approached Gunhilda Bonham, an old friend of hers who was one of the chief mind healers at St. Mungo's.<p>

Finally Gunhilda finished with her work and the two women left the room to not disturb Susan. "There aren't any mind-affecting spells currently active on your niece, Amelia."

That was somewhat of a relief. Unfortunately Amelia immediately realized that wasn't the same thing as her niece not being subjected to any mind magic at all. "But?"

Gunhilda sighed. "I'm not sure. Did Susan ever tell you of what happened at the end of her first year?"

"Not in detail. There was something about her and her friends keeping something safe, but no specifics." In all honesty Amelia had not probed much. She didn't talk much with Susan in general; the Abbots were probably more parents to Susan than her. Her career kept her away most of the day. Additionally, she was just bad with children. Aside from teaching Susan the things she had to know as heiress of House Bones Amelia never knew what to do with her. She had never wanted children and was ill-suited to the job.

"Then I will have to tell you what happened, but that is for later. As I said, I found no active spells or the remnants of such. Still, there are… anomalies."

Amelia narrowed her eyes. "What anomalies? Please, be more specific."

Gunhilda shrugged helplessly. "I don't know if I can. It is more an overall impression than something definitive. Echoes of echoes, things that appear completely normal but are suspicious taken together."

"Give me an example."

"Did you know that Dumbledore explicitly warned the students at the Welcoming Feast in Susan's first year that a very painful death awaited them if they entered the third-floor corridor? There was a giant three-headed dog there, only protected by a simple door that could be opened with a first-year unlocking charm. It was only the first in a series of traps. Susan actually went there towards the end of the year in an effort to protect the philosopher's stone from a thief. She has been aware that someone was trying to steal it for several months."

By now Amelia was catching on. "And yet she didn't think it necessary to write me about it or ask for help. If not me than the Abbotts and they would have told me of something of this magnitude."

"Exactly. There are several instances where it would have been logical to write you or tell you about it after the fact. Every time Susan either didn't even think of it or rationalized a reason to keep it to herself. Children can be unreasonable from time to time, but over the course of two years?"

"Does that mean there was a compulsion on her?"

Gunhilda shook her head. "Not as far as I can tell, and that is the strange thing. There are no signs of any overt mind magic. Whatever caused that behavior was incredibly subtle. I would never have noticed if f I didn't know Susan relatively well and you told me your suspicions. You said Harry is Susan's friend, didn't you?" Seeing Amelia's nod, she continued. "And yet the thought of inviting him over never even crossed Susan's mind."

"What sort of magic could have caused that?"

Her old friend shrugged. "I have honestly no idea. Most of the experienced mind healers died in the St. Mungo attack of 1978. We are still pretty good at treating the more common mental illnesses and problems of the mind, but this is as esoteric as it can get. It will take me a lot of time to dig through our records, especially when no one else can be allowed to notice what I am doing. It's uncertain if I will find anything at all. Maybe my colleagues outside of Britain will be able to give me a pointer. You didn't tell me who you thought to be the perpetrator, but judging from what I found in Susan's mind I can make a pretty good guess."

Amelia nodded, her thoughts racing. Gunhilda had attended Durmstrang, not Hogwarts. The Durmstrang Headmaster at that time and Albus Dumbledore had a less than friendly relationship. Therefore she was one of the people who didn't place Dumbledore on a pedestal. It was one of the reasons Amelia trusted her with this.

"Would learning occlumency help against this? What are the long-term consequences?"

"I can't answer that, Amelia, not without knowing what exactly 'this' is." Seeing her expression, Gunhilda sighed. "I see you insist on an answer. Remember, this is basically speculation and conjecture. The spell must have to do something with the subconscious. My guess is that an average adult would be greatly resistant, if he knows and practices occlumency more so. Children? Not so much. They rarely listen to logic anyway. What is one more inexplicable urge to do something? It doesn't control the actions of a person; it just makes certain actions or feelings more likely or less likely. Using it in this fashion to successfully control a person requires incredible skill and even then it shouldn't be able to force that person to something she or he absolutely doesn't want. You remember the victim's of You-know-who's legilimency from the last war? That was a battering ram. This is a barely visible needle. There shouldn't be any damage to Susan's mind. As far as I can tell she was only dissuaded from speaking or writing about certain events at school and not bring Harry Potter to any adult's attention."

"Can we take it before the Wizengamot?"

Gunhilda actually laughed bitterly. "Amelia, we cannot even prove that something was done to Susan, far less who did it. If our suspicion is correct the man responsible can and will ruin us if he learns we are on to him." She sighed again. "I wish Abraxas Malfoy was still alive. He was one of the foremost experts on the field of mind magic in Britain even if he never worked as a healer."

Amelia felt icy fear touch her heart, but she showed no outward sign. Gunhilda didn't know that it was Abraxas who had provided her with information. If Dumbledore had learned that someone was poking around and felt threatened enough to make that person unable to probe further or speak up against him… No one would ever suspect him of employing Greyback. Her mood didn't improve when Gunhilda told her details of the last two years Susan had neglected to mention. It matched the information Abraxas had given her, but that had been mostly from an outside perspective.

Late in the night, after Gunhilda had left, Amelia sat thinking. Susan had apparently never realized it, but from Amelia's perspective it was clear that Harry's group (and Harry in particular) had been prodded into a specific direction several times. There were just too many convenient coincidences. From the looks of it Dumbledore considered Harry as a weapon against Voldemort and tried to throw the boy at him as often as he could while trying to form him into a 'hero'. According to Abraxas he had even provided for the abusive relatives to be there, just like a fairy tale. It wouldn't surprise Amelia if he had left Harry simply on their doorstep in the night.

'_Why does he do that? What reason has he for that insane course of action?'_

Amelia didn't know and neither had Abraxas. Voldemort being immortal was unwelcome news, but it wasn't a real problem, especially because he wasn't invulnerable. Get a dementor to kiss him; douse him with draught of the living dead, encase him in stone and dump him into the sea; cut off his limbs while keeping him alive; the possibilities for dealing with an immortal enemy were endless and that wasn't even getting into the more esoteric options. The difficulties consisted of defeating him and his followers in the first place and tracking him down, not keeping him dead. They just needed to know that he was immortal in the first place… and Dumbledore had kept that knowledge from them.

Amelia was pretty sure Dumbledore had not employed this mind-influencing on a large scale before Susan and Harry arrived at Hogwarts. Someone would have noticed like Abraxas had. His other actions at Hogwarts like the basilisk mess required more and more political capital to keep a lid on. Now that she thought about it his influence in the Ministry was slowly slipping although it was still massive. It just didn't fit with Dumbledore's usual modus operandi; the man almost never took risks. Or at least he personally didn't; he was perfectly content to let other people take risks for him.

'_He is concentrating every resource he has on his 'Harry the Hero' project… and isn't that creating a fine mess.'_

Normally she would have welcomed the waning of Dumbledore's influence; his mantra of forgiveness and second chances even for people who didn't deserve them had created so many additional problems for their country it wasn't funny. That wasn't even mentioning his other policies. The problem was that the people and families potentially on You-know-who's side were now moving again and spreading their influence in the Ministry and Wizengamot. There were a lot of people with views sympathetic to the Death Eaters' even if they had never actively fought for You-know-who.

Of the fifty-two Houses in existence in Magical Britain at the beginning of the century only thirty-one remained and the number would fall further in the foreseeable future.

Nott, Greengrass, Parkinson, Carrow, Avery, Yaxley, Applebee, Mallory, Van Burm, Partington and (after Abraxas' death) Malfoy had formed a power bloc that represented mostly reactionary and muggle-adverse policies. If You-know-who rose again most of them would support him in Amelia's opinion.

Smith, MacMillan, Longbottom, Matlock and McLaggen were aligned with Dumbledore.

Alexander, O'Flaherty, Ackerley, Higgs, Vane, Pyrites, Farley, MacDougal, Yates and Bones (she had cut her close relationship with Dumbledore after the war) would be considered neutral Houses, but they weren't a unified force.

House Potter had ceased to be a political factor with the death of Harry's grandparents; House Lestrange would be extinct once the last Lestranges died in Azkaban; House Black likewise after the death of the free Blacks a few years ago, although it was possible that House Malfoy would generate an offshoot that would grow into a new House Black since the blood connection was close enough. The Houses of Blishwick and Ollerton were in dire straits and held currently no Wizengamot seats.

Of course, there were additional families and individuals holding seats outnumbering the Houses, but those were usually aligned with one of the Houses, the Ministry bureaucracy or were independent, wealthy individuals. Dumbeldore's faction was grounded both in those independents and part of the Ministry aligned. People like Elphias Doge, Tiberius Ogden and Griselda Marchbanks made up the core of his support and would be impossible to sway without overwhelming, irrefutable evidence.

The current administration was supported mostly by the purely Ministry aligned families and individuals as well as the neutral families, but Dumbledore and Nott's coalition were involved as well. The coalition was slowly pushing Dumbledore's faction out and attracting formerly neutral families and Houses. Maintaining the balance of power between all those diverse forces and finding majorities for votes was… interesting work. In theory the Houses and the Ministry bureaucracy balanced each other, but it had been a persistent trend that the Ministry grew in power. The Houses still wielded much influence, though it was less than it once was.

'_I can't formally move against Dumbledore, not now and with the evidence I have. He has still too many followers. For now I will have to wait and lull him into a sense of false security. I will have to talk with Lord MacDougal.'_

People like Archibald Nott, Liam Greengrass or Lucius Malfoy were dangerous, but without a resurgent dark lord they generally could be reasoned and bargained with. Dumbledore's people… not so much. Not only were they generally convinced of the rightness of their cause, but they were _ineffective_. In retrospect it was clear Dumbledore's influence had been the single most contributing factor to the 'Light' side losing the first war against You-know-who. The man was a masterful manipulator and the greatest wizard in Britain, but as a general or political leader he was a catastrophe for their country.

Maybe Amelia couldn't be the parent Susan deserved, but no one messed with her family. Dumbledore had made an implacable enemy by using mind magic on her niece. One glorious day she would have the power to **destroy** the senile old fool… even if she had to make a deal with the devil to achieve that. It would be distasteful, but she knew which people she had to sway in the Ministry. Maybe she could entice some of Dumbledore's supporters in the Wizengamot and form a coalition from the remaining neutral Houses acting as a counterweight both to Nott's coalition and Dumbledore's followers. Taken together it might be enough. Before she had been unwilling to accept the price necessary for such an endeavor, but with You-know-who threatening to return and Dumbledore out of control she saw no other choice.

An ethereal chime signaling that someone was trying to floo her interrupted her dark thoughts.

'_This can't be good. I left orders only to be disturbed in emergencies.'_ she thought while she hurried to the chamber with the only fireplace in the building connected to the floo network was situated.

The fire was burning green, a head sticking out of it. "Madam Bones! Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban!"

* * *

><p>Harry looked away from Stanley Shunpike, conductor of the Knight Bus, and pointed uncertainly into a now empty dark gap between houses. "There was a big black thing. Like a dog, but massive."<p>

Stanley's mouth had fallen slightly open. With a feeling of unease Harry noticed that his eyes had moved to the scar on Harry's forehead. Flattening his hair over his scar didn't help much, but he headed off the topic by questioning Stan about the Knight Bus. Apparently he had unwittingly summoned it by holding out his wand in a specific way. When he learned that the bus could go anywhere he felt relieved. He had to get away from his relatives.

Traveling with the Knight bus was a... unique experience, but at least it gave him time to order his thoughts. He just had to get away from his relatives. They were nastier than ever. Earlier this summer he had received a warning from the Office for the Improper Use of Magic when he lost his temper and unintentionally caused a vase to shatter. Now it had happened again when he blew up Aunt Marge after she insulted his parents; he wasn't sticking around for that. They would probably expel him from Hogwarts.

Suddenly he noticed the picture of a man on the newspaper Stanley was reading. "That man, he was on the muggle news."

Stanley turned to the front page and chuckled. "Sirius Black. Of course he was on the muggle news. You see, he broke out of Azkaban. He was there for murdering thirteen people in broad daylight, was a big supporter of You-know-who."

Harry listened raptly to Stan's explanations of the crimes of Sirius Black. Azkaban sounded like a really bad place to be. Finally the Knight Bus arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, the only destination he had been able to think of.

"Thanks." he said to the driver. Then he jumped down the steps and helped Stanley lower his trunk and Hedwig's cage onto the pavement.

"There you are, Harry." said a voice. Before Harry could turn he felt a hand on his shoulder. Looking up at the owner of the hand, he felt a bucketful of ice cascade into his stomach. He had walked right into Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic himself.

* * *

><p>Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, was working in her home office when the chiming of the floo alarm disturbed the silence. Wondering who would disturb her after the normal working hours, she stood up and approached the fireplace. A familiar face greeted her from the flames.<p>

"Good evening, Amelia. Is this about the hunt for Sirius Black?"

"Good evening, Dolores. No, I'm here for something different, a rather… sensitive matter. I have a proposal for you. May I come through to discuss things?"

Gears immediately began to grind in Dolores' mind. This was unusual, but the core of the matter was clear: There was a political power shift coming. Amelia Bones held considerable influence in the Ministry and was one of the supporting pillars of the Fudge administration, but she had kept a careful distance from Dolores' faction. It seemed this was about to change.

She smiled sweetly. "Of course, Amelia."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Thanks for all the reviews.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 14**

Cornelius Fudge, Minister for Magic and the poor fool in charge of Magical Britain, measured a small quantity of calming draught into a glass as carefully as he could in light of his shaking hands. Diluting the potion with water from a pitcher, he downed the mixture in one go. Then he waited. A few moments later he felt it taking effect and the shaking of his hands finally stopped. He would have dearly loved to drink himself into a stupor, but he needed a clear head for the cabinet meeting later so diluted calming draught it was. If things continued this way he would need a bigger supply.

The problems just kept coming. If he had known the exact state of Magical Britain beforehand he would never have become Minister and remained Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes or better, sell everything and find a nice, quiet island resort to live out his days. When his administration finally seemed to get the debt problem and most of those incompetent leftovers from Minister Bagnold's reign under control something even more disastrous popped up.

At first it had been the dementors. Contrary to public perception the Ministry didn't have any actual means to control them; they had only a rather shaky agreement. They would generally obey the Ministry and remain at Azkaban unless specifically called as long as they were provided with enough prisoners to feed on their emotions. The problem had come about when the new crime prevention measures introduced by him and Amelia proved far too effective. While less crime was very welcome they didn't count on the consequences. When the number of prisoners in Azkaban fell too far the dementors had become unruly and threatened to swarm all over the country. The death toll among wizards and muggles alike would be staggering. Of course, there existed several anti-dementor measures, but they were not particularly effective on a large scale. In the same vein they couldn't destroy dementors without the beasts noticing it and breaking the truce. In contrast to what most people believed it was possible to destroy a dementor, just very, very difficult and the time- and magic-intensive secret method discovered by the Department of Mysteries didn't work on groups.

Cornelius and other high Ministry officials had taken to using dementors as bodyguards, allowing the monsters to feed at least somewhat from passerby without affecting any single person unduly. It was still highly unpleasant to have them around even without them spreading their aura. Unfortunately it was still not enough; they needed more people in Azkaban. Since they couldn't simply grab random innocents from the street that had forced them to throw every petty offender in there on the most tenuous grounds they could find. As long as they didn't stay there too long no permanent harm was done. Of course, it wasn't a permanent solution, but it staved off an imminent revolt. If the public ever learned of that they would have riots in the streets and his head on a pike, but he truly saw no other solution.

The Hogwarts gamekeeper had been such a case. It wasn't as if the man was innocent. He had a list of infractions against various laws (mainly the illegal keeping and breeding of various creatures) a mile long. The only reason he had not been tried and thrown into prison a long time ago was Dumbledore holding his hand over him. Making it look like the Ministry was doing something about that Heir of Slytherin business was a very welcome bonus. It wasn't as if they could do anything really productive with Dumbledore hell-bent on keeping the Ministry out of Hogwarts.

After the Hogwarts business was sorted out (he still didn't know how exactly that had happened) he had hoped for a time of relative peace. Then the Malfoy murder occurred. Oh, he and his administration had been able to profit from it somewhat, but the murder of a prominent pureblood lord reminded everyone uncomfortably of the last war.

Even worse, Sirius Black had escaped from Azkaban and they were unable to find him. There was no telling what such a Dark Wizard would do. He was a clear threat to their society. Would he try to set himself up as a new Dark Lord or simply continue You-know-who's work?

Cornelius felt his hands beginning to shake again. _'Calm down, calm down. He's gone and won't ever return. I worked so hard to build a better world.'_

He didn't want to remember some of the events of the last war, but the presence of the dementors dragged it to the forefront again and again. Almost every night after he had used a dementor he dreamed about them. One of the worst memories was of the day he had come home late only to find his Imperius-controlled wife over the dead bodies of their children as well as his brother's family. Once the Imperius had broken his wife had killed herself, not being able to live with the actions she had performed while under the spell.

Almost as bad was the memory of his own time under the Imperius. It had happened towards the end of the war and lasted only a few days, but the helplessness had been unbearable. He had been strong enough to remain conscious of what he was doing, but not strong enough to resist. Thankfully he had not been ordered to perform any despicable acts (or really anything at all) and once You-know-who had vanished the spell ended. He wasn't sure what he would have done otherwise.

Another bad memory was the scene of Black's crime. A few hit wizards had already arrived before Cornelius, but he still had been one of the first on the scene. He would never forget Black's maniac laugh, the crater in the street and all those injured muggles. Some of them had been completely torn apart by the blast, their grisly remains spread all over the crater. Poor Peter Pettigrew had been at the center of the explosion. All they managed to find was a finger and even that they had only been able to identify because of a ring. The other remains were just too badly mangled and mashed together. Black didn't kill the man, he destroyed him. It was one of the most vicious things Cornelius had ever seen. Cornelius had done what he could, but he wasn't a healer and more than one muggle had died while he desperately tried to keep them alive.

Black was a threat to everyone. Cornelius had even informed the muggle authorities so that they could help in the hunt. Normally he preferred to keep up the separation and to not involve muggles at all. It was better for everyone if the people stayed in the world where they belonged.

'_Young Harry really couldn't have picked a worse time to run from home.'_

That had come as an unwelcome surprise. Cornelius had worked late in the Ministry when Dumbledore alerted them to the nature of the emergency. Cornelius had accompanied the response team to the Dursley residence and talked to the family. There had been some sort of confrontation and everyone had been pretty angry, but Cornelius thought he had been able to smooth things over.

'_Harry's getting to that awkward age, testing his boundaries and getting into trouble with his family.'_

Cornelius was pretty sure the minor shattering hex the trace had reported earlier this summer had been Harry showing off. It had been a stroke of luck that Cornelius had met Harry in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He had just visited there on his way home and asked the barkeep Tom to keep his eyes open for Harry (and get a small nightcap). This morning he had arranged for someone to pick Harry up when it was time for the Hogwarts Express. If Harry did stumble upon Black… it didn't bear thinking about. It was better Harry didn't learn in what danger he had been and still was; that would give the poor lad only nightmares. Cornelius had already decided it was better that Harry didn't return to his family this summer. Time was needed to let tempers cool. In little more than two weeks he would leave for Hogwarts anyways. Cornelius was sure that after some time the Dursleys would welcome Harry back. They were his family, after all, and family stuck together. He was a bit worried about Harry blowing up his aunt, though. Accidental magic at that age was very unusual; it normally ceased completely when a child visited Hogwarts and learned to use a wand. It pointed to some sort of mental instability. Well, sometimes a family gathering could lead to pretty heated words if some people didn't get along. The entire incident had been removed from the records; accidental magic wasn't illegal, after all.

'_I wonder why Dumbledore was so insistent for Harry to return to his relatives immediately. That would have only fanned the tempers.'_

It wasn't the only thing about the Chief Warlock that Cornelius wondered about. There was just no reason he could think of that Dumbledore had kept the Ministry out of Hogwarts during the last year. The old wizard's strange behavior only added to his worries. He knew very well that the old man could easily become Minister at any time he wished. On the one hand Dumbledore always said he didn't want power. On the other hand he was always interfering in everything. It was bloody frustrating.

In the past Cornelius had generally listened to Dumbledore. That had slowly changed since he became Minister. Others had begun giving him good advice, Lucius Malfoy chief among them. Lucius' advice usually worked… Dumbledore's often didn't. The only possible conclusion was that Dumbledore was setting him up to fail. Cornelius wasn't sure about that, of course, but the nagging feeling had grown over the last years. Information he wished to keep secret always found its way to Dumbledore… somehow.

'_No sense thinking about that now. I have to go to the meeting.'_ he thought after a look to the clock.

Most of the meeting was business as usual. Every employee had been asked to keep his eyes open for Black and help in the search if possible, but so far nothing had come of it. Soon the main meeting came to an end and only his most trusted subordinates like Dolores Umbridge and those whose political support he needed like Amelia Bones remained. Then the dementors became the topic of the discussion.

"We have to do something, Minister. The Azkaban guards are close to going out of control. Black's escape has made them even angrier. I don't know how long we will be able to hold them. Either we give them a large enough population to feed on or they will find prey on their own." the Chief Warden of Azkaban declared.

Cornelius had to keep himself from making a grimace. He now wished he had not made that little power play with Amelia after the Malfoy murder. Increasing the number of departments directly under his control had seemed a good idea at the time, but he should have known that Amelia was too crafty to fall for that. She had given him the one department that was nothing but trouble. He really should have been more specific. Worse, the change had been sufficiently long ago that he couldn't even lay some blame about Black's escape at her feet.

"Then we will have to implement the emergency plan. Amelia?" Dolores said.

The grey-haired witch looked like she had bitten into something sour. "I still don't like it, but it seems as if we don't have any choice left. You have my backing."

"The Hogwarts wards should keep the dementors out of the school grounds unless someone specifically orders otherwise." Stephenson from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures replied. "There isn't any danger for the students and the dementors' aura is attenuated enough by the distance. Some effects will persist, but they should be very mild."

Cornelius nodded. "They will feed on the emanated emotions enough to be appeased. Besides, they will guard Hogwarts against Black, freeing personnel for the search. This way we kill two birds with one stone."

The decision was unanimous in the end, although no one liked it. There was simply no other choice. Hogwarts was the only location in Britain they could use. Cornelius wasn't happy about the children being exposed to dementors even at a distance, but they should be safe enough. The nearby town of Hogsmeade would be protected by another ward. Enough people to keep the dementors happy, but no muggle population that would be endangered. It wouldn't do to give them enough prey to breed.

Something was on the back of Cornelius' mind when he headed back to his office. Then it hit him. Amelia and Dolores had behaved differently. The two witches had never gotten along that well, but something had changed. He didn't know what to make of that development. Their disagreements had been a major source of friction in his administration. He sometimes was worried that Amelia might hold ambitions for his job, but he was sure of Dolores' loyalty.

'_I will have to wait and see.'_

* * *

><p>Draco felt like there were some butterflies caught in his stomach when Daphne laughed at the tale of how his sister had shot a royal stag right under the nose of the Russian equivalent of the Minister of Magic a few weeks ago just when the man was about to place his own shot. The man (who was an avid hunter) had taken it in good humor. He had asked Daphne at the end of the Ministry Ball if she wanted to become his girlfriend. Daphne had accepted, but they were both a bit unsure of how to proceed. At least their families had stayed out of it until now.<p>

"Your sister really did that?" Daphne asked.

He nodded. "You know how Aquila gets. If there is something she wants dead the prey has better to make its will. It will be dead soon at her hands come fire or high water. How about you? Did you have fun on your vacation in Germany?"

"It was great. Grandmother's three brothers are very funny. My cousins are a mixed bag, though. Anyway, we visited some interesting historical sites. I even got to take a look at Nurmengard."

They continued chatting about their respective vacations, walking slowly across the extensive Malfoy grounds surrounding the manor. Both had spent the last two weeks outside of Britain, visiting various (sometimes quite distant) relatives in the different European countries. Most of the old families had family relations in every country, forming a complicated web of relations. Puzzling out just how closely related you were to someone was an amusing pastime for many people.

"How closely are you related to the Russian Blacks? I still haven't figured that one out." Daphne asked.

Draco thought for a moment. "I think the last blood connection is about six or seven generations back. It was before the time of Phineas Black, but the two lines kept in contact. Aunt Cassiopeia and Great-grandfather Pollux did the most, but once they made the introduction Grandfather took up correspondence, too. I mainly write to Cousin Boris; he's two years older than me and goes to Durmstrang. From what he writes I think Hogwarts is much better in Transfiguration and Herbology, but worse in some other classes. Their Headmaster Karkaroff holds his position mainly due to blackmail and bribes; most of the teachers he picked aren't that good."

"So it's the same as dear old Hogwarts what with our batty teachers." Daphne concluded. For a while they lapsed into silence, just slowly walking across the grounds. Their route would take them back to the manor in about ten minutes.

"Kevin won't be returning to Hogwarts." Daphne suddenly remarked.

Draco nodded. "Yeah, I got a letter from him, too. He took the offer from Morag's family and changed schools."

Daphne sighed. "I guess it was the best decision he could make under the circumstances. I wonder who Stephen will now talk to about Quidditch."

"There will always be enough people for that. You know how most people are about Quidditch."

His girlfriend snorted. "Oh yes. When I visited Diagon Alley yesterday there was a whole crowd of people gathering around Quality Quidditch Supplies, all staring at the new Firebolt. That thing has all sorts of features no one really needs."

Draco refrained from commenting. He really liked flying (his dislike for Quidditch notwithstanding), but even he had to admit the broom was somewhat over-engineered. Well, the professionals would probably like it and the fans would drool over it.

He was about to make a comment when something tugged at his robe. Looking down, he spotted the _Monster Book of Monsters_ trying to hide behind his legs. Two crossbow quarrels were stuck in the cover and the book seemed to be shaking in fear.

The blond boy raised an eyebrow. "Oh, that's how it is. Now you come back to me for help? I warned you what would happen if you tried to bite off my fingers."

Somehow the book managed to look contrite. Draco wondered whose bright idea it had been to enchant the things to act like aggressive beasts. There was no doubt who had added them to the book list. Just as Draco had expected the Hogwarts gamekeeper Hagrid had taken over Care of Magical Creatures. The oaf probably thought them funny.

After a few seconds Draco addressed the book again. "I forgive you… this time. Give me any trouble ever again and I will let my sister hunt you down without mercy. Are we clear?"

The book seemed to hesitate for a moment; then it gave the impression of resigned agreement.

"Good. Stay in my room. No damaging any of my possessions or terrorizing the house elves, understood?" When it appeared as if the book understood Draco called for a house elf to take it away.

"That was surreal. I had to beat my book into submission with a poker." Daphne remarked when they were alone again.

Draco smiled and shrugged. "You just have to know the right person for the job."

Daphne gave him a smirk of her own. "And you do always know the right one?"

"I try."

"Then, say, who would be the right person to hold hands with me?"

Draco felt his heartbeat speeding up when he took Daphne's hand into his own. The memories he had received might show him how it was done, but doing it himself was a different thing altogether.

* * *

><p>Ginny felt a bit frustrated. They would return to Britain tomorrow and she still had not found the opportunity to speak with her oldest brother Bill in private. There was always someone else around. Charlie she had been able to corner near the beginning of the vacation, but it had been a bust. Her second eldest brother had immediately begun to sing Dumbledore's praise and how he was eternally thankful how the headmaster had smoothed the way for his work at the dragon reserve in Romania. Ginny didn't bother to bring up more sensitive topics after that.<p>

The sought after opportunity finally came when her parents had retired for the evening, Ron had gone off with Charlie, Percy was in his room polishing the Headboy badge he had received and the twins had snuck out to somewhere. "Hey Bill, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure, Ginny. What do you want to know?"

Ginny made sure to put no small amount of hero worship into her voice. "Last year Headmaster Dumbledore visited me in the infirmary. He was so nice. Can you tell me more about him? You were head boy, after all, and I thought…"

Bill smiled. "Of course. He's a really wise and powerful wizard. Did you know it was the headmaster who brought me into contact with Gringotts? There are always a lot of applicants, but the goblins are very choosy. Without him I would have never been able to work as a curse breaker. In my seventh year I attended some of his lectures. He even invited me for some conversation outside of my duties as head boy…"

Ginny wasn't really listening anymore and soon retired to her room. Dumbledore owned her family lock, stock and barrel. She understood the concept of _quid pro quo_; both Aquila and Draco had mentioned that often enough (and the differences to a genuine friendship). What her family had with Dumbledore was different. They honestly believed the headmaster was doing all that out of the goodness of his heart. He was seen as a wise friend whose advice was to be followed without question.

It was sickening. Ginny had seen Dumbledore's true face. The man was evil and completely without regard for the safety of the school – and there was nothing she could do about it. She hated that feeling of helplessness.

Maybe her family would trust her word above Dumbledore's. Maybe. Then she shook her head. No, she couldn't stake everything on a 'maybe'. She would keep her head down and stay close to Draco and Aquila. Or Hermione and Neville, now that she was friends with them. Thanks to the blasted diary she had pretty much missed the formation period of the cliques and wasn't close to anyone in Gryffindor in her year.

Ginny shook her head in bemusement. The talks with Hermione had opened her eyes to an outside perspective of her family from someone who didn't have any preconceived notions like the Malfoys. It wasn't really flattering. Percy was seen as a pompous jerk (and he had been the one Hermione liked best), Ron was a lazy buffoon who leeched of the work of others and the twins were bullies. The last one had come as a surprise to her. They were pranksters, yes, but she had not seen that as anything bad. Ginny supposed it was far less funny if you belonged to the victims. Fred and George could be the best of friends, but they didn't really know the meaning of restraint. Ginny had already talked with the twins to ease off on her new friend. Ron just had to find a new source of help.

'_I really hope the next year will be better than the last one.'_

* * *

><p>Draco frowned mentally. There was no trace of Remus Lupin on the Hogwarts Express. The appointment of the Defense Professor had been a last minute thing and he had been unable to learn the professor's identity. That was potentially very bad. He knew from the memories of the other Draco that dementors had invaded the Hogwarts Express this year. It might happen again this time around. Combined with the fact that the soul fragment in Harry's scar made him first-class dementor bait Draco had a problem. Harry getting his soul sucked out was unacceptable.<p>

He could already manage an incorporeal Patronus charm, but that might attract more attention than he was comfortable with. Several other methods came to mind. Unfortunately they would raise even more questions. The only solution was intercepting Harry and taking a compartment near sixth or better seventh year students who might know the Patronus. Taking careful note of who entered the train where, Draco waited patiently. Daphne and Morag had arrived together with him, but they had gone off to somewhere with Aquila and the Carrow twins.

The train was already more than half-full when Harry appeared on the platform accompanied by an official-looking man.

"Hey Harry, over here!" Draco shouted.

For a moment Harry looked around, but then he spotted Draco. Leaving his escort behind, he boarded the train. After a greeting the two boys settled into the compartment Draco had picked. The one to the right was occupied by the head girl Penelope Clearwater and several other seventh years. Draco had seen her practicing the Patronus charm in preparation for a Charms Mastery at the end of last year. To the other side were a mixed group of sixth years. All in all it was probably the safest location he could find on the train.

Due to Dumbledore's manipulations Draco had been forced to cut down on the contact with Harry, but they still talked occasionally. Draco used the opportunity to catch up. His occlumency had improved since first year and he thought he could risk closer contact with Harry again.

Before long Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot and Justin Finch-Fletchley joined them. It was a repeat of his first Hogwarts ride two years ago.

"… and I stayed the last weeks in the Leaky Cauldron; it was great." Harry concluded the tale of his summer.

Draco listened only with half an ear when the others told of their summers. None of them thought anything of Harry staying in the Leaky Cauldron. He had sent them owls, but the others had not thought of inviting him to their homes. It was strange to say the least and pointed towards mental influence.

Hours passed by as the train steadily got closer to its destination. It began raining and the world outside changed to a dull, dark grey that grew steadily darker as the day passed. Occasionally other people would enter their compartment for a quick chat, but overall nothing of note happened. That was until the train began to slow down.

"We can't be there yet, can we?" Justin asked.

Hannah looked curious. "You're right. So why are we stopping?"

Draco remained still when the others approached the door to get a look outside. Using the opportunity the turned backs offered, he silently cast a rather obscure spell at Harry. It would make him feel sick for an hour at most… and give Draco a reason to get a prefect into their compartment.

"Guys, I don't feel so well." a suddenly pale Harry exclaimed before he lost his balance and fell against a seat.

Susan was immediately by his side. "Harry, what's wrong?"

The black-haired boy was now sweating profusely and looked even worse than mere moments ago.

Draco frowned. "That looks bad. I get a prefect."

Without waiting for an answer he hurriedly left the compartment. All along the carriage students were sticking their heads curiously out of the doors. The compartment door next to them was still closed. Draco had to knock several times until finally Penelope Clearwater opened up. Her long curly hair was looking somewhat mussed. Apparently he had interrupted something.

"Yes Draco, how can I help you?" Penelope asked in an annoyed voice.

"We need help, Harry suddenly grew very sick. He's in the next compartment."

Penelope's expression lost the annoyance immediately. "I'm coming." When she opened the door completely Percy Weasley became visible, his hair equally mussed and traces of lipstick on his face.

Draco had to suppress a smirk when he led the pair back to his compartment. That had been easy. The girl had always been dutiful during the last two years. Draco knew her well enough as one of the Ravenclaw prefects. Harry had been placed on the bench during the time Draco was gone and looked just like when he had left.

"That doesn't look good. What-…" Penelope asked just when the train came to a sudden halt. A moment later all the lights went out, plunging them into near total darkness.

Before any sort of chaos could erupt Draco raised his wand. "_Lumos!_"

A ball of light appeared at the tip of his wand, illuminating the compartment. Draco made sure to move away from the closed door and take a seat at the window.

"Thank you, Draco. Percy, could you help me here? You others, please give us some room."

For more than a minute nothing else happened, although several people could be heard moving in the corridor. Percy and Penelope had no luck in figuring out what was wrong with Harry, not that Draco had expected anything else. The spell was almost unknown and left practically no traces. Flitwick, Pomfrey or Dumbledore would probably have been able to figure it out after an in-depth examination, but by then the spell would have faded completely.

The sounds stilled as everyone settled back down. Two minutes passed. Then the door slowly slid open. In the doorway stood a cloaked, towering figure. It was a dementor. Suddenly it drew a long, slow, rattling breath. A wave of intense cold swept over them as the dementor spread its aura. Harry let out an unidentifiable sound before he started twitching and lost consciousness.

"Get away from us! Sirius Black isn't here! " Penelope shouted, but the dementor drifted even closer.

Draco needed his full concentration to prevent some of the worst memories of the other future being dragged to the forefront of his mind. His skill in occlumency certainly helped, but it was still an exceedingly unpleasant experience.

Apparently Penelope had enough. "Go away! _Expecto Patronum!_"

Silvery vapor emerged from her wand, driving the dementor back outside the compartment. It seemed to contemplate them for a few moments before it turned around and glided away.

Penelope waited almost ten seconds before she ended the spell. "That was unexpected. Are you alright?"

Draco and the other answered positively. "Harry seems to have lost consciousness."

Percy stroked his chin. "If he was already ill the dementor affected him probably more than normal. Do you have any chocolate? It helps with the aftereffects. Any sweet will do, but chocolate is especially effective. Penelope, I have to make sure the other students are okay."

Once Percy had left Draco removed a bag of his summer candies from his trunk and distributed it among the occupants of the compartment. As soon as Draco put it into his mouth warmth spread through his body, driving the dementor's icy coldness away.

"These are very good. Where did you get them, Draco?" Penelope asked.

"This summer I was traveling all over Europe. I brought them with me from home." That answer was completely true and sufficiently misleading at the same time. Dumbledore would recognize the alchemical nature of the candies, but as long as he didn't think Draco was the creator everything would be fine.

It did take several minutes for the lights to come back on and the train to continue its journey. Harry waking up took even longer. Draco stayed only long enough to exchange a few words with Harry. The boy had heard screaming and was still badly shaking, but one of the summer candies helped enormously. Then Draco searched for his sister and girlfriend. To his relief nothing had happened to the two; they didn't even notice that a dementor had boarded the train. The rest of the journey was completely uneventful.

Icy sheets of rain were falling from the dark sky when they finally disembarked at Hogsmeade station. Swept up in the crowd, Draco lost sight of his friends. At least a hundred stagecoaches were waiting for the students. It didn't look like the thestrals pulling them were bothered by the rain in the slightest. It was funny in a way that most people didn't know about the Hogwarts thestral herd. They were only visible to people who had seen death. Draco had always been able to see them, either due to the memories he had received from his other self or the fatal hunting accident he had witnessed at age eight. He ended up sharing a coach with several older Slytherins who didn't bother him after a perfunctory greeting. Draco inched away from the windows when the carriage approached Hogwarts' gates. Two dementors were standing guard and he could feel their aura when the coach passed them.

'_They are feeding. I hope there will be no accidents with them.'_

Under normal circumstances the Hogwarts wards should prevent them from entering the grounds, but Draco wasn't feeling especially confident about that. Those wards weren't foolproof and if the dementors were determined enough they could resist them. He really didn't fancy his soul getting sucked out.

A short time later Draco was settled in his customary place at the Ravenclaw table and observed the sorting. Harry and Susan had been called away by Professor Sprout as soon as they entered the hall. Draco supposed they were seeing Madam Pomfrey; both of them had been strongly affected by the dementor and Harry was still suffering from the aftereffects of the spell Draco had cast on him. He was feeling a little bad about that, but it was an acceptable price for his safety.

Just after the sorting ended the two Hufflepuffs arrived in the hall. Professor Sprout and Madame Pomfrey took their seats at the staff table. Then Dumbledore made his speech, warning the students about the dementors and introducing two new additions to the staff. Hagrid becoming a professor was no surprise even if Draco knew he didn't fulfill the requirements for the position. He really didn't look forward to the class although he didn't plan on repeating his other self's stunt with a hippogriff. _That _had been an act of extreme stupidity. The new Defense teacher wasn't Lupin, though.

'_I suppose Grandfather's murder and the subsequent werewolf legislation changed things.'_

Instead of Lupin a middle-aged witch named Emmeline Vance was introduced as the new professor. Draco knew she belonged to Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix since the last war, but not much else. He would have to wait and see how things developed.

* * *

><p>Amelia Bones took a calming sip of tea, giving no outward sign of her inner turmoil. She couldn't afford to show weakness in view of her guest. "It seems our control about the dementors is already weaker than we thought. The dementors stopping the train was not planned. Nor was one of them actually boarding it."<p>

Dolores Umbridge nodded, a concerned expression on her face. "Yes, that was a most unpleasant surprise. Fortunately everyone seems to believe our story that it was a planned search. It would make the Ministry look very bad if the truth got out."

"That is true." Amelia didn't want to dwell on what could have happened to her niece or any of the other children. The danger had passed and there was no sense in fretting over the past. She changed the topic. "Dumbledore managed to find a new Defense instructor at last."

"Emmeline Vance, yes. Can you imagine he wanted to employ that pet werewolf of his at school? It makes me shudder. I still think I should have gone to Hogwarts to examine things myself. We could have re-introduced the office of high inquisitor."

Amelia took another sip of tea, considering her answer. "I admit installing you as a teacher might have given us new insights, but the risk was too high. If my suspicions about Dumbledore are correct he might have cornered you alone somewhere and broken into your mind. For all his failures the man is probably the most powerful wizard alive in Britain."

Several other reasons went unspoken. Dolores Umbridge was many things: a powerful witch, the feared Senior Undersecretary, the Minister's right hand and other things. She kept the Minister's Office running like a well-oiled machine. In contrast to many others she actually got things done. A person able to deal with hordes of children she was not. Considering Amelia's own difficulties in that area she recognized that Dolores would do even worse. She ruled her subordinates with an iron fist and tolerated no back talk. It made her extraordinarily efficient in her position, but completely unsuited as a teacher. Children were often deliberately contrary. The brats at Hogwarts would drive her mad in short order, things would escalate until finally everything exploded in an unholy mess. Considering that all the other teachers were loyal to Dumbledore there would be a lot of subtle sabotage and indirect disobedience, too. All they had to do was encouraging some 'pranks' and covering for the students.

"Besides, we still need you at the Ministry, Dolores. Did you make any progress on the leads I was able to give you?"

The squat, toad-like woman scowled. "Yes, and you were right. Dawlish is slipping Dumbledore information, the dirty little traitor. As the trusted head of the Minister's bodyguard detail he can easily get access to everything. I would never have suspected him. It seems the old man has his people everywhere. Furthermore, I found some inconsistencies regarding to Potter in the records, but I haven't been able to investigate them properly yet."

Amelia allowed herself to smile slightly. "It is as I told you. Dumbledore plays a very dangerous game."

After several more minutes of talk Dolores took her leave. Amelia breathed immediately in relief. She hated that woman. Above all else Amelia believed in the rule of law (not necessarily fair laws, mind you) as an ideal, although she was pragmatic enough to make a lot of allowances in this imperfect world. Dolores' only motivation was power and by extension the Ministry's. At the moment she was completely loyal to Cornelius Fudge, but should the man ever get into trouble she would stick a knife into his back without a moment's hesitation.

In short Dolores was an amoral, prejudiced, evil bitch, but she was an evil Amelia could work with if she absolutely had to. In light of the information provided by the late Abraxas Malfoy and her own discoveries she had to swallow the bitter pill and develop their working relationship into a genuine alliance. Despite everything the woman had several things going for her: Firstly, she was not a (suspected) Death Eater or (alleged) Imperius-victim. Secondly, she absolutely loathed Dumbledore. Thirdly, she was uniquely placed to influencing Cornelius and following several leads Amelia couldn't without drawing too much attention.

She had to be very careful what information she gave Dolores, though. It had to be just enough for Dolores to see a threat to her powerbase, but not so much as for Dolores to act prematurely against Dumbledore. That would backfire badly. Amelia had not even mentioned anything about You-know-who; that would have to wait. No, they had to carefully evaluate which people they could trust, find proof of Dumbledore's misdeeds and wait for the opportunity to strike.

Unfortunately Dolores would probably gain a lot of additional influence in the process. Amelia only hoped it would be worth it in the end.

'_Maybe I should look a little deeper into Black's case and see if I can find some dirt. He was part of Dumbledore's order, after all.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Thanks for all the reviews.

The dementor feeding crisis is my explanation for Fudge's eagerness to throw people into Azkaban, use dementors as bodyguards and let them guard the school. The Minister isn't a complete idiot here. Umbridge is still evil, but sometimes evil can be used for better goals.

So long.


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 15**

Draco gave the hippogriff one last pat before he carefully stepped away. They were magnificent animals, but their often volatile temper, easily-insulted pride, sharp beak and even sharper talons made handling them an adventure of its own.

'_The other Draco was a blithering idiot to provoke a hippogriff. He was lucky to survive with a sliced-up arm. One slash can easily kill. Hagrid really has no sense for danger.'_

Care of Magical Creatures was one of the electives Hogwarts students chose in their third year. Since their teacher Hagrid had never completed Hogwarts (he had been expelled during his third year) and therefore wasn't allowed to use a wand there was no possibility of timely magical first aid in case someone suffered a serious injury. By the time the victim was brought to Madam Pomfrey up in the castle it would be too late. Healing spells were generally only taught starting in fifth year and even then only those for rather superficial injuries. Fortunately there had been no incidents this time, but they still had the entire year to go.

One by one Hagrid put the collars back on the hippogriffs and attached them to chains, leaving the students to themselves for the moment. It was a mixed group consisting of students of all houses. Care of Magical Creatures was one of the more popular electives, making their group somewhat larger than the usual twenty in the core subjects.

Unfortunately Daphne was the only of his close friends who had chosen the same classes as him.

Morag didn't like subjects that required her to dirty her hands. In her words it was bad enough that she had to suffer through five years of herbology – there was no way she would spend more time outdoors in the company of smelly beasts than she had to. Her chosen electives were Arithmancy and Ancient Runes.

Kevin had left Hogwarts and transferred to a magical school in Spain this summer.

Stephen had chosen Arithmancy, Divination and Muggle Studies. Draco considered the last two subjects as taught at Hogwarts a waste of time, but he had been unable to convince his friend of that.

Soon enough Hagrid sent them on their way after assigning them the task of reading several chapters in the _Monster Book of Monsters_ now that everyone knew how to get it open. Well, Draco had known the trick before, but thanks to his little sister his and Daphne's books were quite docile and didn't require that.

"Well, that was exciting." Daphne remarked when they walked back to the castle. "Although I thought Potter would fall to his death when Hagrid let him fly on that hippogriff. I still don't understand how they could make him a professor. Hippogriffs are fifth year material at the earliest."

Draco shrugged. "He knows much about animals and it isn't as if Professor Kettleburn was any better. The man routinely lost parts of his body and managed to amass sixty-two periods of probation during his fifty years here. I figure if they kept him on staff Hagrid is only par for the course."

His girlfriend blinked when she processed the information. "How do you know that?"

"Aquila has been keen on the class for years. She gathered all information she could get."

The blond girl at his side laughed. "That figures. Well, we'll just have to see what happens."

Draco smirked. "Do you want to bet on how long it will take Hagrid to bring something illegal to class?"

Daphne tapped her index finger against her lip. "Hmm, I say one month at the longest. But what about the stakes?"

"How about the loser takes the winner shopping during the next Hogsmeade visit and foots all bills? Nothing more expensive than ten galleons, though."

"Agreed."

They made more idle chitchat until they reached the entrance hall when they had to separate. Daphne headed towards the Slytherin common room in the dungeons while Draco made his way to Ravenclaw Tower. They would have to get ready for dinner soon.

The next few days saw the other subjects introduced. Professor Vector was as strict as expected and gave them tons of homework. Numbers, numbers and more numbers. From what Draco saw Hermione appeared to be in her element. The class consisted entirely of theory; it would be a long time until he learned something with practical or useful applications there. Maybe the basics would come in handy at some point in the future.

Study of Ancient Runes began pretty much as learning of a new language. Having been taught by high-paid tutors in his pre-Hogwarts life, Draco had already a basic grasp of runic scripture, but there was still much too learn. Professor Babbling seemed to be good-natured if a bit absentminded.

Defense against the Dark Arts under Professor Emmeline Vance was mediocre at best; similar to how Quirrel had performed during first year. In the other world Lupin had introduced them to a live boggart during the first session, a shape shifter that assumed the form of a person's fears. Vance seemed more theoretically inclined. She was lecturing about the creature and taught them the spell necessary to fend it off, but there was no boggart to practice. Draco was glad about that. He wasn't quite sure what a boggart would pick up from him, but due to the memories of his other self there were a lot of things he feared. Some of them might lead to problematic questions. Besides, he didn't want his fears exposed to his classmates.

In the next few days nothing especially exciting or unexpected happened. The presence of the dementors outside the Hogwarts grounds was mostly imperceptible. There appeared to be no trace of Sirius Black anywhere. For the time being Draco could act as a normal student and concentrate on class work and school life. Well, as normal as he could get considering his constant research into advanced topics and spells.

* * *

><p>"Are we in agreement then, Lord MacDougal?"<p>

The old man nodded slowly. "Yes, Madam Bones. You will have the support of House MacDougal in the Wizengamot."

After going through the necessary courtesies Amelia took her leave, returning to her home via floo. The talks with Lord MacDougal had not gone as she had hoped. Granted, she had managed to get his support for the political coalition she was building, but she had hoped for more active help. In light of the fact that he was the only other person the late Lord Malfoy had confided in she had expected more.

'_If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.'_

Alan MacDougal had been a giant of a man in his youth, a feared fighter in the war against Grindelwald and a passionate, well-respected politician and head of house in his later years, but now he was a frail shadow of what he once had been. Wizened, shrunken, with droopy eyes, his once coppery hair gone snow-white, he was content to sit on his bony arse and do absolutely nothing with all the information and resources he had while their world tumbled towards the next catastrophe. Dumbledore's manipulations and the possibility of You-know-who's return didn't seem to faze him in the slightest. He had openly admitted that he was unwilling to fight.

'_I should have expected that. If Abraxas Malfoy didn't manage to get him to do something there was no hope for me. The two were classmates at Hogwarts and life-long friends.'_

It explained why she had received the information package from Abraxas in addition to Lord MacDougal. She had never been close to the Malfoy patriarch, but the man had probably been desperate for anyone who might put up an effective resistance to both Dumbledore and You-know-who. Well, and probably the Ministry. While Amelia was part of the Ministry she was also head of her own house and didn't want to see the Ministry's power expanded further than it already was. Abraxas had been a known critic of Ministry expansion.

'_That makes four houses that have accepted my leadership. Ackerly, Farley, MacDougal, Yates. Together we have enough votes to match the houses following Dumbledore, but it's still not enough.'_

Holding them together for a longer time would be difficult. Amelia doubted she could convince any of the others to join her coalition. That left five houses as independents, their votes going to whoever managed to convince them for a particular ballot. Five followed Dumbledore and eleven the Greengrass-Nott-Malfoy coalition, although Amelia had made some inroads with Lord Mallory, Madam Partington and Dowager Lady Longbottom. Combined with the other people in the Wizengamot who had already supported her before she now had a much more stable powerbase, albeit at the cost of promises and deals that might prove problematic in the future.

Amelia was about to head to her private study when the floo alarm sounded. Turning around, she saw a head in the flames. It belonged to Graham MacDougal, grandson and heir of Lord Alan MacDougal. He had turned thirty earlier this year; the party had been one of the most well-visited social events in the season.

"Good afternoon, Madam Bones. May I come through? We have something important to speak about."

"Good afternoon, Mr. MacDougal. Of course, I will give you access immediately."

A minute later they were seated in the parlour of the manor. "Please excuse my rudeness, Madam Bones, but I will come straight to the point. I overheard your conversation with my grandfather. I am less than pleased with the outcome of your talks."

Amelia raised an eyebrow questioningly.

Graham sighed. "My grandfather is an old done man. There is no fight left in him. All he wants to do is doting on the children and enjoying the last years of his life. He is terrified of losing anymore family members. From what I overheard his inaction will be our undoing." The man shook his head. "I am willing to do everything in my power to prevent the new rise of You-know-who… and bring those who abuse their position to mess with the minds of our children to justice."

The stern witch managed to cover her surprise completely. This was not something she had expected. "That is a very interesting offer, Mr. MacDougal, one I appreciate greatly."

"Unfortunately my support will be limited. As long as my grandfather remains the head of the family I can't publically go against his will. Information and my wand if you need it is all I can offer."

Amelia nodded. "Of course, I understand completely."

They continued talking for a while. Amelia felt somewhat better when the man left. It was progress, if mainly in the morale department. Graham was only a single man, after all. Well, Alan MacDougal would not live forever. With a little bit of luck he would shuffle off this mortal coil sooner rather than later.

Moving to her study, Amelia noted once again how empty the house felt now that Susan had left for school. Out of necessity they had spent far more time together this summer than usual. Amelia had thought long and hard about sending Susan back to Hogwarts – back to Dumbledore and his subtle mind magic. It would have been easy to transfer her niece to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons, to name only the other two most famous schools in Europe. In the end she had decided to take the risk. Doing anything else might have tipped Dumbledore off. Unfortunately Susan's occlumency was still rather lacking despite her best efforts over the summer. Of course, that wasn't surprising. The emotional teenage years were inherently the worst time for keeping control over one's thoughts.

Sitting down behind her desk, Amelia began to review a stack of documents. She had finally collected copies of all the different files concerning Sirius Black and brought them home with her. At first glance everything seemed to be in order. There were ample witnesses about the man's attack on Pettigrew and the muggles. According to the witnesses Pettigrew had blamed Black for the death of the Potters. Black had publically admitted his guilt. Later Dumbledore had testified that Black had acted as their 'Secret Keeper' – apparently the Potters had hidden under an obscure ward to that only that specific person could grant access. Black's wand had been destroyed before anyone could check it due to an accident with a muggle car at the crime scene. That was suspicious, but the number of random people present made it unlikely that it was a deliberate destruction of evidence. The exact spell used to make mincemeat out of the victims and blow up the street was unknown, but the investigators had listed several possibilities that fit the observed effects like no visible spell trail.

'_Black received no formal trial, but that was in accordance with the Emergency Powers Act that was in effect back then. There was a short tribunal headed by Bartemius Crouch and Black made no attempt to defend himself. Later review by Wizengamot committee found no exonerating circumstances or violations of the Act and upheld the sentence. Most other similar cases were also upheld, but there were a few overturned sentences and re-trials.'_

All in all, judging from the available evidence it looked as if Black was really guilty. Amelia didn't like this imprisonment without Wizengamot trial, but it had been legal and the times immediately before You-know-who's fall had been desperate. Neither did she like Bartemius Crouch, but she had to admit that the man's methods had brought results. As soon as his emergency measures had been implemented against the wailing of Dumbledore's crowd that killing of Death Eaters in battle was evil and they shouldn't sink to their level the Ministry had achieved the first victories of the entire war and inflicted noticeable losses on the enemy. Had he been allowed a free hand earlier they might have squashed the Death Eaters before everything escalated into a civil war with enormous casualties, but unfortunately at that time it had been too late to make a difference anymore; they had been losing to You-know-who regardless. If he had not disappeared after the murder of the Potters he would have won without question.

Still, her suspicion had been roused. Not so much by the legal facts but by what was surrounding the case. All the documentation had been declared secret and sealed after the Wizengamot review. There were very few people besides her who could access the documents even now, but there was no reason she could determine for that secrecy in this case. The Bagnold administration had done a lot of that, granted, but she still found it suspicious.

The second highly suspicious thing was that Black had been portrayed by the Bagnold administration as the Dark Lord's right hand man and most dangerous follower when there was absolutely no basis in reality for that as far as Amelia could tell. Yes, what he had done was horrible, but it paled in comparison to what the Lestranges had done over the course of the war, for example.

Another thing that baffled her was that no one seemed to have questioned Black in all the years he was in Azkaban. The man had been a member of Dumbledore's vigilante organization calling itself the Order of the Phoenix, just like Amelia's brother Edgar had been. Why wouldn't Dumbledore or any of the other members try to find out if the traitor was responsible for any other deaths or why he had turned his coat? Now, it was possible that they thought a confrontation too painful, but somehow Amelia had her doubts.

Overall, if Amelia had looked at the case of Sirius Black under normal circumstances she would have accepted everything despite her misgivings. Now though things were different. The information from Lord Malfoy and the talks with her niece gave much more, extremely disturbing context. Abraxas had warned her about his son Lucius and his leanings without outright saying that the man was a Death Eater, but it didn't require a leap of logic to come to that conclusion. In the same vein he had compiled statements from all the Blacks that they doubted Sirius had ever willingly joined You-know-who.

'_This is the crux of the matter – did Sirius Black willingly join You-know-who?'_

Sirius' brother Regulus had been a known Death Eater while his parents had been vocal pureblood extremists, but the young man himself had never shown such inclinations. Sirius leaving his family and taking refuge with the Potters had been a medium-scale scandal. Keeping up a charade to mask his true intentions for years was unlikely, especially considering his age at that point in time. In fact, this looked more like a genuine Imperius-case than a willing defection. It even had the customary mental breakdown at the end. Most Imperius-spells had failed with You-know-who's disappearance, but it was possible some other Death Eater had been the caster.

'_Why was that never considered?'_

Amelia frowned slightly and retrieved the copy from Dumbledore's statement. Unfortunately there was no clear indication if the secret had to be divulged willingly. The wording certainly gave that impression, but Dumbledore never outright stated it as fact.

'_That's strange. I would have thought the committee to pay more attention to that point. It might have been the only way to decide if there was an Imperius in place or not.'_

Further investigation yielded the composition of the committee. Interestingly at least half the members were people with a grudge against the Black family. They might not have considered things fairly, but there was no way to prove that now, more than a decade after the fact.

Judging from the documents it looked as if the surviving Blacks and the late Lord Malfoy had tried to gain access to Sirius for years, but that had always been denied for 'security reasons' by Bagnold. By the time Fudge came into power the last Blacks were dead or dying. Lord Malfoy had continued his efforts, but he had not approached the matter directly after the change of administration apart from a few inquiries. In light of Fudge's phobia regarding all things relating to You-know-who that was probably wise. Black's case would have landed on his desk thanks to the high-security clearance necessary.

'_I suppose he wanted to wait until he had enough pull with Fudge before he approached the matter again.'_

Unfortunately his long illness and untimely death had prevented that from happening. There was no proof of Sirius' innocence, only circumstantial evidence that might be missed if one didn't look closely.

Amelia knew Dumbledore had some sort of plan for Harry Potter; a plan that apparently required his placement with his muggle relatives. That was very unusual; under normal circumstances even distant wizarding relatives would be given preference instead. Practically all the Potters' close friends had perished in the war, but there were a lot of related people if one looked a bit further. The imprisonment of his godfather, the only person left who had a direct, unquestionable legal right and obligation to see to the boy's upbringing was just so incredibly _convenient _in this context. She would have to check the timing of when exactly Dumbledore had placed Harry with the Dursleys.

The review committee, Black's public portrayal as You-know-who's right hand, no efforts by his erstwhile friends and allies to question him – it reeked; it reeked to the high heavens. Oh, there was nothing outright illegal anywhere. Sirius could still be guilty. Even if he wasn't there was no way to prove that someone had deliberately engineered a miscarriage of justice. If Dumbledore had a hand in removing Harry's godfather he had been extremely cautious and subtle. He might have influenced the committee composition or he might have not. A few well-placed seemingly innocent words in a conversation might have influenced opinions.

'_Perhaps he didn't even need to do anything. Perhaps everything fell in its place on its own. Perhaps he just had to stand back and let it happen. Perhaps it just was convenient for him.'_

Amelia shook her head wearily as she closed the files. The Black case was not the sparking wand she had been looking for.

* * *

><p>"… You have to consider Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration in those applications, especially the third and fourth exceptions…"<p>

Ginny simply stayed silent and nodded when it seemed appropriate. Hermione in full lecture mode was a scary thing. All Ginny had wanted was a bit of clarification on second year Transfiguration class, not a full-blown speech that looked like a reproduction of McGonagall's lecture. Unfortunately it seemed as if she had inadvertently triggered Hermione's know-it-all switch. It wasn't the first time that had happened, either. By now she knew the best way to deal with it was to simply wait until Hermione lost steam on her own. She had tried to interrupt the bushy-haired witch earlier as had Neville, but to no avail.

Neville seemed to find the situation very funny. Occasional twitches of his facial muscles indicated that he had to fight hard to keep his expression neutral. Bit by bit he was losing that fight as Hermione continued giving an impersonation of McGonagall. It was eerie.

Suddenly Hermione stopped talking and turned to Neville when an especially loud snigger escaped his lips. "What?"

This seemed to push Neville over the edge and the boy exploded in full-blown laughter. Hermione simply looked at him with a disapproving expression that was again eerily reminiscent of their Tranfiguration teacher mixed with growing confusion. It looked so funny that Ginny was beginning to chuckle as well.

"You too?" Then she folded her arms, harrumphed and began to pout, causing Neville to laugh even louder.

Finally Neville managed to calm down. Wiping tears from his eyes, "Sorry Hermione, you were channeling McGonagall again."

Hermione blinked. "I was?"

Neville nodded, a grin on his face. "And I think your explanation was a tiny bit more exhaustive than Ginny expected."

The older girl turned towards Ginny, the question clearly visible in her eyes.

"I only wanted a yes or no, Hermione."

"You did?"

Ginny nodded.

"Then why didn't you say so?"

"Because you immediately began talking and didn't let us get in a word edgeways." Neville answered for her.

Hermione got a faraway look, obviously replaying the last events in her head. Then she groaned. "I did it again."

Neville reached over the table to pat her hand. "Don't worry, by now we are used to it. We know how difficult it is for you to keep your inner lecturer in check. I'm sure you get it under control in a few years." He waited for a few seconds. "Well, and if not you can always apply to Hogwarts as McGonagall's replacement."

"Prat."

Ginny watched the interplay with a smile on her face. Now, two months into the school year, the two were her best friends in Gryffindor even if they were a year above her. From what she had seen in her first year Neville was normally very shy and somewhat clumsy and forgetful, but he was much more confident in Hermione's company. Hermione on her part had definitely traits of an overbearing know-it-all, but she really tried to rein it in. Most importantly, the two knew about her friendship to the Malfoys and helped to keep it under wraps. Considering the Gryffindor – Slytherin rivalry and especially her family's problems with the Malfoys that friendship was a massive howler waiting to happen. Still, Ginny would never give up her relationship to Draco and Aquila. Without Draco and his grandfather's help that cursed diary might have killed the real her without anyone noticing.

"I still can't believe you took all electives, Hermione. Don't you get overworked?" Neville remarked when they headed back to the Great Hall for dinner. For their study session they had chosen one of the countless unused rooms in the castle.

"I manage." Hermione replied. "It's just a matter of organization."

"My oldest brother Bill did the same." Ginny interjected. "He managed to get twelve OWLs, but he dropped several subjects in his last two years. According to him Divination was a waste of time, though."

Neville shrugged. "I wouldn't know; Care for Magical Creatures, Runes and Muggle Studies are all pretty interesting."

Hermione grimaced. "I think your brother was right. Trelawny is crazy. Well, her constant predictions of Goyle's death are pretty funny, but I'm really thinking about dropping the subject."

"Thank Merlin Draco convinced me not to take it." Neville laughed.

Ginny was already seated at the Gryffindor table when Draco and his group friends entered the hall. They had met considerably less often in the last two months. Draco seemed to be always busy, either with studying, hanging out with his friends or his girlfriend.

'_I suppose they make a nice couple.'_

Ginny had never really talked with Daphne Greengrass and didn't have an opinion of her one way or another. Well, Aquila liked the pretty blond girl and spoke well of her. The gossip in Gryffindor Tower was far less favorable, but that was probably only the usual prejudice at work. Still, when Ginny looked at them together she felt a slight unease and didn't know why. Draco was a good friend. She should be happy for him.

Shaking her head to banish these thoughts, Ginny concentrated on the meal. Tomorrow was Halloween and she looked forward to the feast. Hermione and Neville would visit Hogsmeade before that, though. As a second year Ginny wasn't allowed out of the castle grounds, but her friends had already promised her to bring something back. The castle would be almost empty. She would use the opportunity to meet up with Aquila. Despite the dementors this school year looked to become much more pleasant than the last one.

* * *

><p>A black dog carefully made its way through the woods. Tomorrow would be Halloween. The students would all be at the feast. Then he would strike. The traitor wouldn't escape him this time.<p>

* * *

><p>Dolores Umbridge carefully folded her hands while she replayed the statement of the man standing in front of her desk in her head. If this was true… this was the breakthrough they had been searching for. The idiot didn't even seem to realize what he had said. He was one of the workers of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and thought he was here as a candidate for transfer to the Minister's Office.<p>

In the past weeks and months Dolores had dug through old files and interviewed countless people, all in the hope of finding something untoward regarding Harry Potter they could use against Dumbledore. Amelia Bones had supplied her with ample leads, but it was still hellishly difficult to find evidence. According to her it was fact that Harry Potter had been abused by the filthy muggles and someone had covered up all traces, that someone being the esteemed Chief Warlock and Headmaster of Hogwarts Albus Dumbledore. That all their departments were infiltrated with Dumbledore loyalists who would immediately run to the man if someone asked uncomfortable questions only added to their difficulties. That meant she had to act incredibly subtle and find plausible excuses for what she was doing. Interviews for promotions like the one she did now had been the one used most often. It was astonishing what people let slip if you acted friendly enough and steered the conversation in the right direction. People were surprisingly careless in telling 'funny anecdotes' of their earlier career when they thought they faced a friendly listener.

"Did I hear that right? You obliviated that worker from social services and compelled him to erase all traces of the case, but didn't file an incident report?"

"Yes, Madam Umbridge. Just a memory charm followed by a compulsion charm, nothing more." The idiot apparently still didn't recognize that the formerly pleasant conversation had taken a turn that could break his neck.

"Let me rephrase. You obliviated someone who was investigating alleged child abuse, child abuse that involved a prominent magical child I might add, and didn't see the need to investigate yourself or report it to anyone else as was your duty according to the regulations? Do you know what the penalty for that is?"

Now the man began to sweat. "Arnold Peasegood assured me it wasn't necessary and that he would take care of things. It was all a big misunderstanding. Please Madam Umbridge, I was just helping out that day in the obliviator office."

"I see. Please wait a moment."

Dolores removed her wand from its holster and thought of one of her happiest memories, the day when she had personally witnessed the execution of a dozen merpeople who had attacked several muggles. The foul beasts had taken an exquisitely long time dying. After all, they could breathe for a while outside of the water, but it didn't protect them from a slow death by suffocation if they stayed outside too long… as she had witnessed on that day.

"Expecto Patronum." Immediately a silvery Persian cat sprang from her wand. "Amelia, I have found something that falls into your area of responsibility. Please come to my office at your earliest convenience."

The toad-like witch watched with satisfaction as the man began to pale rapidly while the ethereal cat rushed out of the office. The ability to cast a fully corporeal Patronus was her pride and joy. It was one visible sign of her power as a witch. She had never been more than average at best in transfiguration, potions and most charms, but her skill in offensive and defensive magic and of course the Dark Arts was enormous.

It didn't take long at all for Amelia to arrive.

"Ah, Amelia. Thank you for coming so quickly. Mr. Plunkett here just told me a fascinating tale of how he obliviated a muggle official who was looking into possible abuse of one Harry Potter and then covered up all the traces. Interesting, don't you think?"

The now grey-faced man shrank under the glare of the Head of Magical Law Enforcement and actually began to visibly quiver. Oh, how Dolores loved such moments.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Thanks for all the reviews.

It's been a long time since the last chapter. Unfortunately it's unlikely the pace will pick up anytime soon. Work and poor health have slowed down my writing speed to a crawl.

Guilt of Sirius: Use of the Imperius-spell was apparently widespread at the time of Voldemort's fall. That doesn't even mention possibilities like torture, blackmail or other sorts of mind-influencing spells and substances. Even if Sirius apparently did betray the Potters, why do his friends and comrades in the order of the phoenix believe it was done willingly?

No time turner here. Giving such a device to a thirteen year old school girl never made much sense. Well, the need for it made even less sense. Elective classes shouldn't overlap in the first place. What about students who took, say, Muggle Studies and Arithmancy, the classes canonically taking place at the same time as Divination? Considering the size of the student body (around forty in Harry's year), the need to take at least two elective classes and the number of elective subjects (five) it is unlikely no one did that. Heck, even the end of year exams took place at the same time. Anyway, in this story the subjects are spread out, making it possible for a student to visit them all.

Oh, and at the current time Hermione hasn't purchased Crookshanks. Without the friendship to Ron she had no reason to visit the pet store.

Side note: I'm really not a Ron fan, but Hermione behaved very inconsiderate in book three. She knew her cat had it out for Scabbers (as cats are wont to do) and still brought him into the boys' dormitory while denying the possibility that he would harm the rat. The cat had a very good reason, but she couldn't know that.

So long.


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 16**

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

The stars were twinkling merrily in the dark sky above, but Draco paid them no attention. Instead he stared deeply into his girlfriend's grass-green eyes. The orb of glittering lights he had conjured gave them enough light to see each other clearly despite the surrounding darkness.

Draco didn't know how long they just stood there, but finally the corners of Daphne's mouth and her eyebrows twisted slightly in a way he had come to recognize as amused impatience. "Oh, enough staring. Just kiss me already."

That brought Draco out of his reverie and he smirked. "Who am I to resist such an offer?"

Leaning closer to Daphne, he gently pressed his lips against hers. It felt very nice. Unbidden the memories from his other life intruded, forcing him to make a comparison. It was pretty good for a first kiss, much better than what the other Draco had experienced with Pansy Parkinson, mainly because he knew what he was doing this time. The accident with Ginny before his second year didn't count.

Finally they separated, simply standing side by side, gazing at the stars. No words were spoken; they just enjoyed each other's closeness. Their current location was perfect for a little privacy. Nobody ever visited the Dark Tower, maybe because of its erstwhile use as a prison. Hogwarts was large; far too large for the number of students. Strangely most people didn't really made use of that space. They learned the common routes, but never completely explored the castle. For instance, many couples tried to use the Astronomy Tower for romantic meetings, making it rather crowded at times.

"We should head back before someone misses us." Daphne said after a couple of minutes.

Draco nodded. "You're right."

Hand in hand they left, their free hands holding their wands to light the way. It felt great, but the old part of Draco's mind couldn't help to acknowledge that it probably wouldn't last. They were still too young. Well, currently he wasn't listening to that part of him. He had not paid it much attention in the last weeks either apart from advice on how to avoid blunders. Sometimes he just had to discard all thoughts of complicated plans and the worries about the future in favor of enjoying the present. Growing closer to Daphne was very enjoyable indeed.

Taking a seldom-used route back towards the Great Hall, they encountered no one else for several minutes. Most people were at the feast anyway. The couple came to an abrupt halt when they turned a corner. There, some distance away was a ragged man with filthy hair hanging to his elbows. A large knife was in his hand, but he seemed to be as surprised as them about the encounter. The man was the first to shake off the surprise. Cursing, he turned around and ran into a side corridor.

'_Damn it, I totally forgot about this.'_

"That's Black! After him!" Draco shouted before giving chase.

* * *

><p>'<em>Stupid, stupid, stupid.'<em> Sirius Black thought while he ran through the halls of Hogwarts. How could he have forgotten? Of course couples would use the Halloween feast to slip away and get some privacy time in. At least some would be imaginative enough to pick out-of-the-way spots, thereby ruining his plans. Worse, they had spotted him at a distance and already had their wands out. They blocked the way to his exit and now they were pursuing him. He couldn't even transform back into his dog form as long as he was in their sight.

'_Where to, where to?'_

The Halloween feast would end soon, meaning he couldn't risk taking a way that brought him near the great hall. Perhaps… yes, in that direction he should find only empty rooms. At this hour the fifth door on the sixth floor would lead to the third floor. From there he could use the secret passage hidden in the statue of the one-eyed witch to escape Hogwarts. There shouldn't be anyone at the other end of the tunnel in Honeydukes in Hogsmeade. By the time the owners noticed something he would be long gone.

A spell whizzing through the air near his head brought him back to the here and now. His two pursuers were only third or fourth years from the looks of it, but they would be enough to catch him since he didn't have a wand. He could only hope to outrun them, something rather difficult considering his poor physical state. His pursuers were catching up rather fast.

'_Damn that fat shrew. The rat could have been mine if she had let me through.'_

Suddenly a door opened and two young, laughing girls emerged into the corridor, a blonde and the redhead who had been in the picture with Wormtail. The laughter cut off abruptly when they noticed him and their eyes widened. He was already too close to them to evade, they were blocking his path. Sirius immediately realized what their presence meant for him.

'_There's no helping it.'_

Deciding in an instant, he pushed the redhead out of the way and roughly grabbed the blond. A moment later he had her in a secure grip and his knife at her throat, facing his pursuers. The redhead was lying on the floor, stunned, while the two older blondes had come to an abrupt halt.

"Back off." Sirius growled, his voice hoarse from disuse. "Lay down your wands or I'll kill the girl."

Both of the older students hesitated, but especially the boy's expression grew murderous.

Sirius gestured with his knife towards the redhead. "You… bring me their wands."

In the next moment the trapped girl kicked wildly against Sirius' leg and rammed one of her elbows into his stomach. The unexpected resistance caused his grip to break and the girl slipped free. Sirius experienced a moment of confusion before the entire world in general and his groin in particular exploded with pain. He barely noticed the blonde boy uttering an incantation and the following red bolt that sent him into unconsciousness.

* * *

><p>Aquila panted heavily as she kicked the ragged man a few more times for good measure. How dare he to lay a hand on her? How dare he to use her as hostage? It was a shame she didn't have the power to cast any of the proper curses Aunt Cassie had taught her… yet.<p>

"That's enough, Aquila." The voice of her big brother pierced through her rage and she took a step back. "Incarcerous." Thin cords shot from Draco's wand, wrapping around the man. "That should be enough to hold him for now." Then he stepped up to her and hugged her. "Good work, sister. You handled that perfectly."

She gave her brother a tremulous smile. Now that the immediate danger was over she began to shake, causing Draco to hug her tighter. She saw from the corner of her eyes that Daphne was helping Ginny up. Half a minute later her breathing slowly returned to normal.

"What do we do about Black?" Daphne asked.

Aquila's eyes widened. Then she left Draco's embrace and stared at the unconscious man. "That's Sirius Black? What in the world is he doing here? Hogwarts is supposed to be safe."

Draco barked out a short laugh. "Safe? Hogwarts isn't safe. You do remember the troll in my first year? The one I wrote you about? Or how about what happened last year?" He shook his head. "No, Hogwarts being safe is nothing more than wishful thinking and propaganda. A wanted criminal wandering in without anyone noticing is par for the course."

"That doesn't matter now." Daphne interjected. "Do we alert the staff?"

"Let me think for a moment. There is more at stake here." Draco answered. "We didn't pass any occupied portraits during the chase, did we?"

"I don't think so." Daphne replied. Draco nodded and assumed a thoughtful expression. The gears turning in his head were almost visible.

Aquila was confused, but didn't let it stop her when she approached Ginny. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, just a bit shocked."

"Okay, I have decided." Draco said. "We need to get Sirius away from here. I need your help with that."

"Why? Why don't we turn him over to the staff or the Ministry?" Daphne simply asked.

"I don't know what Sirius wanted here, but this isn't an opportunity I can let pass by. Grandfather and my Black relatives always doubted his guilt. Aquila, you remember the talks we overheard?"

The blond girl nodded. "That's right. Aunt Cassie, Great-Grandfather Pollux and Uncle Arcturus all said there was no way Sirius would have joined You-know-who willingly. They suspected the Imperius curse, but they could never get permission from the Ministry to talk to Sirius. Them being denied in that way was really strange."

"Exactly. This is an opportunity to make sure about Sirius' guilt, but first we need to get him somewhere safe. I know a way out of the castle. He is a family member and family looks after family, after all. Will you help me?"

Aquila immediately gave her assent as did Ginny. Daphne followed suit a moment later. Soon they were moving through the castle. Daphne levitated Sirius while Draco occasionally cast some sort of invisibility spell whenever they passed portraits. The two younger girls scouted ahead. Finally they arrived in an unremarkable short corridor. Draco tapped several stone blocks in a certain sequence. A moment later the wall opened up, revealing a large wooden cabinet.

"This is the cabinet I helped you transport last year." Daphne said.

Draco turned towards them. "Yes, it is. Please, this is important. Don't talk with anyone about it; don't even think about it if you can help it. It isn't just a cabinet, it's a vanishing cabinet. To be precise, it is one of a pair. You can travel between them in the blink of an eye… and it goes right through Hogwarts' wards."

"Where does it lead to?" Aquila asked curiously.

Her brother gave her a serious look. "To an underground hideout near our manor. Grandfather helped me set it up. There are many things going on I can't tell you for your own safety. Please, trust me in this. I'm sorry."

Daphne reluctantly agreed as did Aquila. She narrowed her eyes when she noticed that Ginny didn't seem surprised. Apparently she already knew about this. That was something she had to investigate further at some point in the future.

Draco nodded. "Alright. I'll take Sirius with me and secure him on the other side. It shouldn't take more than five minutes at most."

"How will that work?" Aquila asked. "You can't simply leave him alone there."

"I have access to a collection of potions. Draught of the Living Death will work best, I think. Sirius will keep until we can properly interrogate him."

Not waiting for anymore questions, Draco levitated Sirius into the cabinet before he followed suit.

Daphne let out a sigh. "And there he goes. Another of his secrets out of who knows how many. Sometimes I wonder if I know anything at all about Draco. It's infuriating."

Ginny seemed awfully blasé about the entire affair. "That's just how he is."

Aquila frowned slightly. Another sign that the redhead knew more about her brother than her. She and Ginny had slipped away from the feast to spend a bit of time together. The Halloween feast was scheduled to last for several hours. Their absence for part of that time wouldn't really be noticed; there were always students coming and going.

Soon Draco returned. "Okay, everything is taken care of. Let's head back to the Great Hall."

They didn't talk much on their way back, or at least Aquila and Ginny didn't. Draco and Daphne were whispering constantly. Once they neared their destination they split up. It wouldn't do to arrive together at the same time; Ginny's friendship to her and her brother was still secret.

Aquila stopped for a moment before entering. The shock of the encounter with Sirius had still not completely faded. Facing all those other people and possible inquiry made her feel jittery again.

'_Remember your lessons. Maintain poise and grace in every situation. I have faced down Acromantula and Crumple-horned Snorkacks. One possibly deranged cousin and a hall full of children is nothing.'_

Steeling herself, she walked back into the hall and her place at the Slytherin table. The Carrow twins gave her a nod when she sat down besides them, but no one else gave any sign that they had noticed her absence or saw something unusual about it. A minute later Daphne entered the Great Hall, taking up her usual seat some distance away at the same table. Draco was already back at the Ravenclaw table talking with his housemates. Finally Ginny arrived and headed immediately to the Gryffindor table. No one would be able to tell they had a confrontation with an Azkaban escapee not even half an hour ago.

More than an hour later it was time to return to the dormitories. Aquila's thoughts were still centered on her brother. Draco always seemed to know far more than he should. Granted, he had been far closer to their grandfather than she had been and obviously been taught things far beyond his age, but that didn't explain everything.

'_How many other secrets do you hide, brother?'_

* * *

><p>Ginny found it difficult to sleep that evening, especially because she had to make do with a sleeping bag in the Great Hall instead of her normal bed. When the feast had ended they had all returned to their dormitory only to find the portrait guarding the entrance slashed to pieces and the Fat Lady, the guardian, missing. Apparently Black had tried to force entry into the Gryffindor common room. As a consequence all students had to sleep in the Great Hall while the staff searched the castle.<p>

'_Why did he do that? What did Black want in Gryffindor Tower?'_

It just made no sense. Even if he had done all the terrible things said about him and wanted to kill Harry Potter he had been in the wrong location. Harry was a Hufflepuff, after all, and their dormitory was near the kitchens, a fact she knew thanks to her brothers. Black could be delusional, of course, but that seemed to be an insufficient explanation. If you took Draco's suspicion of Black's innocence (something Ginny was inclined to believe. She trusted Draco more than anyone) into account it made even less sense. Unfortunately she just didn't have enough information.

No, what truly worried her was the ease with which Black had been able to enter the castle. Considering the events of her first year and the preceding trouble Draco had told her about the castle being that insecure beggared belief. It seemed she was once again caught up in some scheme. She puzzled about the matter late into the night until finally sleep came.

On the way back to Gryffindor Tower she overheard Ron talking with Seamus. "… disappeared during the night. He has been ill for a while."

"But I thought you didn't like him very much?"

"Well, yeah, he was a bit boring, but he's still my pet, you know? I already asked Percy for help."

When Ginny listened longer it became clear that Ron was talking about his old pet rat, Scabbers. Apparently the animal had disappeared during the last night. While she had never liked Scabbers that much (she would have preferred a cat) she felt sorry for Ron.

Over the next few hours normal life reasserted itself. The teachers found no traces of Black, but rumors were flying wild. Strangely there seemed to be no aurors or other members of the Ministry coming to investigate.

'_I guess Dumbledore doesn't want them in the castle. Who knows what things he has going on that would be hard to explain to trained professionals.'_

Herbology class had just ended when she spotted Draco in the Entrance Hall, examining the school notice-board. It was unusual for him to be here at this time. Ginny stepped to his side, making a show of examining the board herself.

"Ginny, we have to talk as soon as possible." Draco whispered.

"Give me ten minutes. I'll meet you at our usual spot." she whispered back.

Eight minutes later Ginny entered an out-of-the-way room. She had a free period, allowing her to excuse herself to do some 'studying'. Since she wasn't especially close to any of the Gryffindors of her year spending time away from them aroused no suspicion. Draco was already there and busy casting some privacy charms on the room. "What is this about, Draco? Normally you give me several days notice."

"Something urgent came up. What can you tell me about Ron's rat?"

Ginny blinked in confusion. "You mean Scabbers? What exactly do you want to know? All he does is eat and sleep."

"Everything. When did your family buy him?"

That required a moment of thought. "He's been around as long as I can remember. He was Percy's pet at first, but he gave him to Ron later." Then she remembered the conversation she had overheard this morning. "Oh yeah, Scabbers disappeared last night. Why do you want to know…?" Ginny's speech petered out when she saw Draco palming his face and beginning to groan. "Is everything alright?"

Draco sighed, cradling his head in his hands. "No. Tell me, Ginny, do you know how long a rat normally lives?"

"Um… no, I don't know. Sorry."

"About three years. You just told me Scabbers was around for almost your whole life; let's say nine or ten years at least. No normal rat can grow that old. Did your parents ever get suspicious and had him tested?"

A cold knot began forming in Ginny's stomach. "Not as far as I know."

"Idiots. Sorry, Ginny."

Ginny waved the apology away. She loved her parents, but by now she knew that she couldn't rely on them in regards to important things and that their actions often had little real thought behind them. "What is this really about?"

"If my suspicions are correct Scabbers isn't a rat at all. He's an Animagus. A Death Eater Animagus by the name of Peter Pettigrew, to be precise. The very Death Eater who is responsible for the death of the Potters."

The redhead's jaw dropped. "What?!"

Draco nodded grimly. "Grandfather knew much about the Death Eaters and the last war. Dumbledore founded an organization called the Order of the Phoenix to fight against the Death Eaters. They weren't especially successful anyway, but they had a spy in their ranks. That was Pettigrew according to my information, although I have no proof. Sirius was thought to have killed him. The only piece they could identify was a finger."

"Scabbers is missing a digit." Ginny realized.

"That proves it. I knew that Pettigrew was a secret Animagus with a small form, most likely a rat, but I didn't know if he was alive or where he was. I made the connection only now when I thought about why Sirius would try to get into the Gryffindor dorms." Draco explained."This morning I went through the cabinet to search him properly and found this." He held out a piece of paper.

Ginny took it. It was a fragment of an old issue of the Daily Prophet, featuring a photograph of the Weasley family. Scabbers was prominently displayed, his fore-paws clearly visible. To have a man posing as a pet in their house for all these years… She felt sick when she remembered occasions when she had changed clothes in front of the rat.

Meanwhile, Draco continued his explanation. "The Potters were hiding under some sort of special charm that only one person could grant access to. According from what I heard that person was Sirius. The most likely explanation is that Pettigrew put him under the Imperius to reveal everything. When You-know-who was defeated that night everything fell apart. It's virtually certain that the other Death Eaters would blame Pettigrew for their lord's defeat. I imagine Pettigrew came up with faking his own death and letting Sirius take the blame in response to that."

One question immediately sprang to the front of Ginny's mind. "Why didn't Sirius tell anybody about it?"

"I don't know. Maybe he was never asked. At that time the Black family had no shortage of enemies in positions of power. Sirius disappearing forever in Azkaban was very convenient for a certain Chief Warlock and Headmaster, too. He was named as Harry Potter's godfather and you know how Dumbledore likes to have control over him. As for the other Death Eaters who knew about Pettigrew's true allegiance, I imagine they were delighted that he was dead and kept quiet to get their revenge on Sirius, someone who had fought against them."

Ginny sighed. "That sounds logical. Did you tell your sister and Daphne about it?"

"No, and I probably won't do it anytime soon. You can defend your mind. Daphne and Aquila both have some knowledge in occlumency that is relatively advanced for their age, but they are far less skilled than we are. I just can't risk someone reading their thoughts. They already know too much."

"They won't like that. What do we do now?" Ginny asked after a few seconds of silence.

Draco shrugged. "Absolutely nothing. We can't do anything about Pettigrew. If Scabbers turns up again we might be able to catch him, but I think he used the opportunity to flee the castle. I still have to interrogate Sirius. Unfortunately we have no proof for his innocence."

That was all too familiar to Ginny. It was the same about the events of last year. They knew what was going on, but they had no way to prove that to the authorities and no one influential enough on their side to press the matter.

'_I wish there would be someone who does something about the situation.'_

* * *

><p>Life was good for Lucius Malfoy. Now that his father had finally shuffled off this mortal coil he had assumed his rightful position and got the respect he deserved. Thanks to his direct connection to Minister Fudge, his widespread influence in the Ministry in general and the wealth of House Malfoy in particular he had almost immediately advanced to a leading political position in the pureblood coalition, forming a triumvirate with Archibald Nott and Liam Greengrass. Their combined influence was spreading through the Ministry and Wizengamot. Despite some philosophical differences his children were making him proud, especially now that that mudblood friend of Draco's had disappeared. His son's choice of girlfriend was excellent, too. He and Liam had already begun to negotiate a betrothal that would bind their houses more closely together. Lucius had thought about doing the same for Aquila and Archibald Nott's son Theodore, but unfortunately Lord Parkinson had gotten there first. Well, there were countless other options. All in all everything was right in the world.<p>

It was with considerable surprise that he had received an invitation from Amelia Bones. He knew that the witch disliked him and many of his views (a feeling he returned with equal intensity), but at least she could be bargained with. It seemed she wanted to strike some deal with him. Depending on the details he wasn't averse to doing that. Just like him she was the head of one of the Old Families and a pureblood. Despite all differences they had things in common. He was sure that in time she could be made to see reason or would at least acquiesce to a more reasonable government, unlike those deluded muggle-loving fools and blood-traitors surrounding that old goat Dumbledore.

Arriving at the agreed upon time at Bones Manor, Lucius was immediately led into the parlour. To Lucius surprise there was another witch present. Madam Umbridge was a considerable force in the Ministry. She had many agreeable views, but she didn't actually belong to his faction; her power was based upon connections in the Ministry itself. Seeing her together with Madam Bones was surprising. The animosity between the two witches was very well known, although there had been signs of them closely working together in the last months.

"Madam Bones, Madam Umbridge A pleasure to meet you." he politely greeted them.

"Lord Malfoy. Thank you for accepting my invitation."

A few other pleasantries followed. It was just the way things were done. When finally the true reason for the meeting came up Lucius almost dropped his teacup. Fortunately he managed to suppress his reaction.

"Did I hear you right, Madam Bones? You want to remove Dumbledore as Chief Warlock?"

It was Umbridge who answered. "We do. His interference in Ministry affairs can no longer be tolerated. Together our factions have the necessary votes to introduce the motion."

Lucius leant back, almost overwhelmed by the possibilities. Dumbledore was perhaps the most difficult stumbling block for anyone wanting to organize a majority in the Wizengamot. The muggle-loving old fool stood in the way of any reasonable policy change. One bleeding heart speech and the sheep always supported him blindly. If that didn't work he had so much influence on the technicalities of the legislative process that new bills he didn't like were delayed endlessly. Worse, the old man had been playing the political game for so long and commanded such an amount of public respect that it was virtually impossible to dislodge him from his positions. Lucius had learned that to his detriment when his scheme to get Dumbledore dismissed as Headmaster backfired, costing him his own seat on Hogwarts' board of governors.

That thought brought him back to reality. "We have enough votes to introduce the motion, yes, but not enough to carry it."

"That is true." Madam Bones conceded. "Fortunately an opportunity will come up very soon."

"Oh?"

"Indeed. As it turns out Harry Potter was abused by his muggle guardians, the very guardians Dumbledore picked for him. The obliviators helped to cover things up. We are sure of that." Madam Umbridge answered.

"And Dumbledore is aware of that?"

Madam Bones shrugged. "Who knows? I don't doubt he will act very disappointed, say he had faith in the boy's family and trusted them completely. He will get away with it, too. It does present us with an opening, though."

"We propose a deal. In the next few days we will launch an official investigation into irregularities in the Obliviator Headquarters. Dumbledore will do his best to block or steer it into a harmless direction, of course. It's unavoidable that he will learn of it even before the investigation is actually launched. We ask for your support to see that investigation through. The most important evidence will be gathered by us beforehand anyway." Madam Umbridge explained.

"Once the scandal becomes public everything will be chaotic for a while. When things calm down we will suggest that Dumbledore, while blameless, is overworked with all his different duties. Otherwise he would surely have noticed something amiss. That should be convincing enough to carry our motion." Madam Bones continued. "We propose to nominate Ebenizer Fawley as new Chief Warlock."

Lucius thought about it for a minute. He could actually see no downsides for him or his allies. Removing Dumbledore permanently from the office of Chief Warlock would be an enormous boon. Fawley was a neutral old wizard who only cared for correct procedures. He would be a large improvement over Dumbledore, one everyone would be able to live with. Still, perhaps he could derive even more benefit from this.

"That sounds very interesting, I have to admit. Still, if I am to convince my allies I will need something more."

"Guardianship of Harry Potter."

Once again he almost dropped his teacup. Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived, was still one of the most important public icons of the British Wizarding World. Lucius held a grudge because of the boy's involvement in the Dark Lord's downfall, but that was water under the bridge. He would have to be a complete idiot to ignore this potential goldmine. Being formally acknowledged as the boy's guardian would be priceless. "Excuse me?"

"Young Mr. Potter will need new guardians, of course. Those filthy muggles should never have received guardianship in the first place." Madam Umbridge replied. "The usual procedure in cases like this is the assignment of three new guardians. One of them will be Minister Fudge himself. Madam Bones will be the second guardian. Either you or one of your allies would serve marvelously as the third. Would that be agreeable?"

* * *

><p>Amelia Bones watched Lord Malfoy disappear through the floo. The meeting had gone considerably better than she had feared. She had been prepared to offer more things to Malfoy to get him to agree, but he had been content with the shared guardianship of Harry. The man clearly had a far too high opinion of his skills as a negotiator. Appealing to his sense of importance had gone a long way. Lord Greengrass or especially Lord Nott would have been far more difficult to convince. Well, it wasn't as if Amelia was complaining.<p>

"I hope you know what you are doing, Amelia. What that idiot Plunkett told us is far too nebulous. It could still be nothing but exaggerated rumors. This could backfire spectacularly."

"Trust me, Dolores. My source is completely reliable, but unfortunately we can't use it publically. We have to gather our own evidence. A thorough questioning of the Dursleys and careful examination of their house will be enough."

As soon as Umbridge had left the manor Amelia's pleasant smile turned into a grimace. Spirits, she hated those people. She would probably never feel clean again. Still, Dumbledore had to go and soon. The man was senile. Black had invaded Hogwarts and he still allowed no Ministry presence to investigate things. Oh, he put it into nice words and obscured his true motives, but it was clear that he wanted nobody to closely examine the castle.

Withdrawing into her study, Amelia sagged in a chair. She had a bad feeling about this. There was no other choice she could see to deal with Dumbledore, but in a few years she might well rue what she had agreed to. Lucius Malfoy and his ilk were either Death Eater scum or pureblood extremists, even if some of the families involved were actually more moderate. Unfortunately she needed their help. At least they seemed to have renounced violence, making them a more long-term issue, at least as long as You-know-who didn't return. Dumbledore was the immediate problem. He and his allies were weakening their society, not to mention the old fool's despicable actions in regards to the children. Removing him as Chief Warlock was only a first step.

Now that they had secured the alliance they would have to move quickly. As soon as everything was set up Amelia would personally lead an investigative squad to take in the Dursleys. Thanks to Abraxas' reports she had an excellent idea what to look for and what questions to ask. She had already verified that the extensive ward network Abraxas Malfoy had encountered in Little Whinging two years ago was gone. Oh, there were still wards in the area, but nothing of the same intricacy. She suspected the majority of wards had been dismantled after the Ministry got involved after the report of Harry using magic during the last summer.

The opportunity to strike would come in four days while Dumbledore was away for a meeting of the International Confederation of Wizards. She would have to pick people she trusted completely. Unfortunately it was difficult to say who might be a Dumbledore supporter. Moody was a given, Dawlish had come as a surprise and she had doubts about several other people.

'_It will be best if we visit the Dursleys during the evening. Dolores can pick up Harry from Hogwarts on the next morning. By the time Dumbledore learns of that he will be faced with a fait accompli.'_

Dumbledore would survive the scandal, of course, but he would be weakened. He had already lost political capital in the last two years. People who might have followed him unquestioningly could now be convinced that he wasn't always right. Additional steps were already planned. Unfortunately it would be impossible to dislodge him from his position as Headmaster anytime soon – the board of governors was full of his true believers.

A house elf sudden popped into her study. "Mistress new guest has arrived."

Amelia nodded. "Thank you. I will be there presently."

Grimacing, she got up. She really didn't want to meet with that… person, but she had need of her unique skills. Well, if she had to associate with scum like Lucius Malfoy and Dolores Umbridge she might as well go the entire way. A certain tidbit of information that had come to her attention would ensure smooth proceedings. She would never have learned it if she didn't grow paranoid due to her activities. Placing a few more rather esoteric detection charms during government meetings had brought unexpected results.

Entering the room, she greeted her guest. "Welcome, Miss Skeeter. I thank you for coming so swiftly."

"Thank you Madam Bones. I would never miss the opportunity for an interview with a pillar of our government like you. My readers are very interested in what you have to say." The blond journalist smiled, one acid-green quill appearing in her hand.

"Oh, you won't need that quill, Miss Skeeter. I have to admit that interview was only a ruse. Do you know what the penalty for being an unregistered animagus is? Especially if the animal form is used for spying on confidential meetings? Say, a beetle that shouldn't be present during the budget consultations?"

The smile was instantly gone. Skeeter's face assumed a greenish hue.

Amelia smiled. "I thought so. Well, you are in luck, Miss Skeeter. It just so happens that I have a task suited to your unique talents."

"What do you want?"

Amelia folded her hands under her face. "The Ministry will soon launch an investigation into certain irregularities. You will receive first access to all findings. Certain parties will do all in their power to suppress evidence. I trust you to whip the public into a frenzy, directing them at a specific target. At the same time I want you to begin looking into the past of that target. Some very interesting information has recently come to my attention. I'm sure there are many more skeletons buried in that person's closet. As long as you cooperate information about an unusual beetle will stay safely buried."

Skeeter was silent for a few seconds. "Who is that person?"

"Our esteemed soon-to-be ex-Chief Warlock, Albus Dumbledore."

The woman's eyes grew large before they narrowed in calculation. It seemed Skeeter had taken the bait.

'_Chalk up another win for carrot and stick.'_

* * *

><p>Petunia Dursley was busy doing the dishes while Vernon watched TV when suddenly the doorbell chimed.<p>

"Who would disturb us at this hour?" she wondered. Vernon only grunted.

Drying her hands, she made for the door. On occasions like this she hated that the freak was not here. Chores didn't do themselves, after all, and honest work was just the right thing to keep the little blighter from doing some freaky, unnatural stuff.

Opening the door, Petunia came face-to-face with a square-jawed woman with close-cropped grey hair and a monocle. Several more people were standing behind her, but she didn't manage to get a good look.

"Good evening. Are you Mrs. Petunia Dursley?"

Petunia nodded, slightly intimidated by the woman's serious expression.

"My name is Amelia Bones, Law Enforcement. I fear I have to talk with you about your nephew Harry Potter. May we come in?"

'_Perhaps the freak has finally managed to kill himself? Or perhaps he did something illegal?' _Petunia thought almost giddily before she ushered the people in.

The door had barely closed when suddenly all her muscles locked up and she froze in mid-step. Two men passed her, carrying sticks in their hands. She heard Vernon asking a question, but he stopped in mid-word.

'_Those are freaks.'_ was her only thought.

"Rufus, stay with me. Williamson, Proudfoot, gather all available evidence. We might not have much time before someone interferes. Start with the cupboard under the stairs."

Only then did Petunia consider that somehow they might be in trouble.

* * *

><p>Harry Potter was in a good mood. Not being allowed to visit Hogsmeade still rankled, but it had been more than two weeks since those events. He had just finished his breakfast and was talking animatedly with Hannah Abbot.<p>

"Who's that?" Justin suddenly asked.

Turning around, Harry saw a squat, vaguely toad-like witch entering the Great Hall followed by several other people.

Professor McGonnagall rose from her seat. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Good morning, Deputy Headmistress. My name is Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. Please excuse our unscheduled call, but we have urgent business with one of your students. He is to accompany us back to the Ministry immediately."

"But-"

By now the attention of the entire hall was focused on them. The witch presented a document to McGonagall. "Here is an order signed by the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Minister himself."

Only then did someone remember to cast a privacy charm, making the conversation inaudible. They seemed to argue for a bit, but then McGonnagall's shoulders slumped and she nodded. A few seconds later the toad witch and her retinue approached the Hufflepuff table.

"Mr. Potter, please come with us. I can assure you that you aren't in trouble. Your presence is needed to verify some facts. It concerns your present guardians."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Thanks for all the reviews.

On the coincidence of the children meeting Sirius: all parties deliberately use routes and rooms that are usually deserted, causing those parts to be not as deserted as hoped.

Some of you probably wonder why Abraxas didn't do what Amelia is doing now. He actually did plan on doing something similar to gain guardianship of Harry before third year started (most of first year was filled by realizing that there was something wrong in the first place and collecting evidence), but Lucius first assassination attempt put him out of commission for most of second year. Then he died to the second attempt before he could finalize his plans. Amelia is working with the information he provided. Another factor is the shifting of political constellations. Since Voldemort's defeat and up to the first few years of Fudge's rule Dumbledore had a tight grip on the Ministry, but slowly his supporters are driven out from positions of power. Additionally Abraxas knew that he wouldn't have enough time to see a proper campaign against Dumbledore through; by the current time he would be already dead or near dying from the effect of the life prolongation potion running out.

It is interesting to note how quickly Dumbledore was removed from the position of Chief Warlock in canon –Voldemort regained a body at the end of June 1995 and by August Dumbledore was already dismissed. That is hardly enough time for a proper smear campaign.

So long.


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 17**

Harry Potter wasn't quite sure what was happening. About an hour ago a squat, vaguely toad-like witch had fetched him from Hogwarts and brought him to what was apparently the Ministry of Magic. The only information he had been given was that it somehow concerned the Dursleys and that he wasn't in trouble.

They had escorted him out of Hogwarts just after breakfast. Then they used something called 'side-along apparition', a very unpleasant method of transportation, to teleport them somewhere else. It was a city, but Harry had not gotten a good look before he had been ushered into a warehouse. Then a cargo lift had taken them underground. After traversing several corridors Harry had been ushered into an empty meeting room and told to wait. Nothing had happened since then. His attempt at leaving the room had been prevented by the two guards.

Nobody told him what was going on. Frustration, boredom and fear were slowly building. He was already considering way to slip away from the guards.

Harry looked up when the door opened. A young witch with a pale heart-shaped face and violet hair entered, holding a stack of paper in her hands. When she saw him she stopped, blinked, raised her finger and opened her mouth. Then she closed it again.

"Excuse me for a second."

"Um, okay?" Harry answered, not entirely understanding what was going on.

Meanwhile, the witch had turned around and marched back out of the door. Harry could hear her voice, but the answers of the guards were unintelligible. "Did you simply leave him alone in there?… For how long?... For Merlin's sake, he's a thirteen year old kid… Yes, I understand this is what Madam Umbridge ordered… Madam Bones won't like this… No, she's still busy… Yes, I'll take care of it."

Then the woman entered again. Harry could hear her muttering under her breath. "Bloody toad has no idea how to treat children." A moment later she switched to a louder voice and smiled. "Wotcher, Harry! I'm Tonks. Sorry about this. There seems to have been a snag somewhere. You shouldn't have been left like this. Do you have any questions?"

"Erm, hi. What's happening? Nobody explained anything."

"Weeell, I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to tell you. I'm just a secretary." Tonks seemed to think for a few seconds. "There's a really big investigation ongoing in several departments. The Ministry is in an uproar. I don't know all the details or what it has to do with other things, but your aunt and uncle have been taken in for questioning last evening. Madam Bones, my boss, wants to interview you personally, but she didn't say anything else to me."

Harry nodded. "Okay. Thanks. Who is this Madam Umbridge? She collected me from Hogwarts and treated me like a retarded five year old."

The woman grimaced. "She's Minister Fudge's right hand." Tonks lowered her voice conspiratorially. "You didn't hear that from me, but she's an evil old hag. Never cross her under any circumstances. Vindictiveness is her second name. She probably tried to be nice, so count yourself lucky. I'm so glad she isn't my boss. Oh, that reminds me…"

Tonks scribbled something on a sheet of paper before removing her wand from her sleeve. Harry didn't recognize the spell, but the piece of paper folded itself into a paper plane and zoomed out of the room through a slit above the door.

"What was that?" Harry asked curiously.

"I just sent a message to my boss. We use the paper planes for communication here in the Ministry."

They continued talking over the next minutes. Harry found Tonks very funny, especially after she demonstrated the ability to change her face and hair color at will. Tonks asked about his Hogwarts life, having graduated the year before he began his schooling. In return she told him about her work at the Ministry.

Time passed so quickly Harry hardly noticed. When the door opened and several people entered it came as a complete surprise to him. Tonks immediately reverted her appearance to what it had been originally.

The first to enter was a middle-aged wizard with an utterly forgettable face. A square-jawed witch with close-cropped grey hair and a monocle followed. Umbridge and a wizened old wizard brought up the rear.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. Please excuse the delay. Any problems, Miss Tonks?"

"No, Madam Bones."

A minute later everyone was seated and introductions had been finished. The first wizard belonged to the Muggle Liaison Office while the second one was a member of the Wizengamot Administration Services, not that Harry really knew what that meant. It was only then that Harry realized that this Madam Bones was actually Susan's aunt Amelia. That fact made him immediately feel more at ease. Despite being friends with Susan since he started Hogwarts he had never met the woman before; it had always been the Abbots who met Susan at the Hogwarts Express. In fact, Susan spent most of her time with the Abbots. According to his friend her aunt was distant, very stern and always far too busy with her work.

Madam Umbridge was the first to address him. "Mr. Potter, I am sure you are wondering why we brought you here. An internal investigation has brought up serious misconduct in various departments. When we followed one of the leads we discovered certain irregularities in your home life."

Icy fear spread through Harry. He didn't want other people to find out.

Before he could say anything the wizard from the Muggle Liaison Office spoke up. "We know about the starvation. We know about the forced isolation. We know about the _cupboard_."

'_Uncle Veron will kill me.'_

Seeing his panicked expression, Madam Bones intervened and made a calming gesture. "Don't panic. You won't have to return to the Dursleys ever again; that much I can promise you."

Harry couldn't really believe it, but hope overshadowed the panic for the moment. "Really?"

Madam Bones nodded. "Really. In fact, they will be facing prison time for what they did."

Harry was silent for a few seconds, emotions and half-formed thoughts whirling chaotically in his head. "I don't want other people to find out."

Susan's aunt sighed. "Mr. Potter, I won't lie to you. It is virtually certain that the details of your home life will be plastered on the front page of the Daily Prophet sooner rather than later. Too many people are involved in the investigation. Someone will leak the facts to the press. You are a celebrity with all that entails."

He was about to object when he remembered several conversations with Draco about his unwanted fame. The blond boy had always insisted that Harry should come to terms with his status. Hiding would never work.

Harry nodded glumly, hoping it wouldn't be that bad. "Where will I live now?"

The man from the Muggle Liaison Office cleared his throat. "There are procedures for cases like this. An underage wizard being mistreated by his muggle guardians happens on occasion, unfortunately, although I do have to admit that normally only pertains to muggleborn. A wizard child should never end up with muggles in the first place. We try to keep the worlds separate, after all."

"The circumstances of your placement with the Dursleys are something we are looking into." Madam Bones interjected. "The end of the war was a chaotic time, but it should never have happened."

The second, ancient wizard nodded ponderously. "I quite agree, especially since there were a number of magical blood relatives still alive when you were orphaned. Even if not you should have been placed with a magical family."

Harry's head was swimming. Magical relatives? Still alive? "Who?" he heard himself ask.

"Your great-aunt Cassiopia Black, great-uncle Pollux Black and Arcturus Black would have been the ones with the closest relation. They are dead by now, to be sure. Currently your closest living magical blood relative in good standing is Narcissa Malfoy nee Black."

"Draco's mother?"

The ancient wizard blinked. "Ah yes, I remember now. Narcissa's son is your age. Yes, that makes things easier. Anyway, when a child of one of the Old Families is orphaned, no other adult members of the family remain and a will is absent or successfully disputed it is custom to assemble a small council of guardians. Usually three or four, chosen by the Wizengamot. In the interim period either the Minister or the Chief Warlock holds your guardianship. It has been quite some time since the last case, but the precedent is clear. I clearly remember…"

Before the wizard could pontificate further Madam Umbridge cut it. "Minister Fudge has already assumed guardianship since Chief Warlock Dumbledore is currently away on the continent."

"Does that mean he can sign my Hogsmeade slip?" Harry blurted out, interrupting the woman.

Tonks giggled while the others looked bemused. Redness crept into Madam Umbridge's face, but before she could say anything Madam Bones placed a hand atop her arm, shaking her head slightly.

"I'm sure that can be arranged, Mr. Potter. By Christmas the matter of your permanent guardians should be settled." Madam Bones steepled her hands. "Now, there is another reason we brought you here. We would like to hear your statement regarding your treatment at the Dursleys' hands."

"My statement?"

"Yes. The Dursleys confessed to a number of crimes and we gathered other evidence, but you verifying at least some of the incidents would make things much easier and certain to stand up in court. I have a list here. A simple true or false will suffice. If you feel up to it you can expand on things, but at this time we mainly want to confirm the facts we already know. Since you are a minor we have special procedures for this." She gestured at the other occupants of the room. "Between the people present we can witness your testimony and present it to court, vouching for its accuracy. You won't have to appear before the entire Wizengamot that way."

Harry didn't know what to do. He had never even thought of such a development. Finally he nodded. "Okay."

* * *

><p>Amelia Bones had to try hard to resist the urge to massage her forehead and utter a sigh of relief when the last in a string of meetings finally ended and the people filed out of the meeting room. The day had been beyond stressful. Productive, but stressful.<p>

The Dursleys had been most unpleasant people to deal with. The woman had clammed up at first while the husband never really stopped talking. His raving and ranting about 'freaks' had been annoying, but in the end they had gotten the evidence they needed. They had even brought in the husband's sister, a Marjorie Dursley. She had been surprisingly open about her and her brother's family's treatment of Harry.

'_They are really the worst kind of muggles.' _

Interviewing Harry had brought no new facts, but it had shored up the case. Testimony from a wizard was a useful thing to have and it did spare the boy a public appearance.

The investigation into the Obliviators was bringing lots of corruption and abuse of power to light, but that was really incidental to Amelia's main purpose. Oh, she didn't like corruption, but she was old and cynical enough to have accepted it as an unavoidable fact of life. A few scapegoats would be punished harshly; everyone else would lie low and actually do their jobs properly for a time until they backslid sooner or later. The trick was to do an investigation or audit often enough to keep the government working in a semblance of efficiency. The investigation would probably be neutered soon anyway by the various powerful people invested in the status quo.

No, the main purpose was stirring up trouble for Dumbledore and removing a few of his supporters. The investigation was only beginning, but Amelia already knew that there seemed to be no proof of any criminal activities on the old man's part. He was far too careful for that. Questionable decisions, deliberate misunderstandings and insinuations, yes, but none of the people taken in had given them hard proof for anything illegal on Dumbledore's part. It was frustrating, but not unexpected. If the man had been easy to pin down someone would have taken him down decades ago.

In the end Amelia had decided to resort to character assassination. In fact, that had been what the last meeting had been about. They would publically investigate while staying just short of slander, making sure that every little accusation found its way onto the front page of the Daily Prophet. The accusations would probably come to nothing in the end, but throw enough mud at someone and something would stick, at least in the court of public opinion.

Tonk's voice interrupted her thoughts. The woman had remained behind when everyone else left. "Boss, are we really doing the right thing here? Shouldn't Professor Dumbledore have a say? What if he didn't know anything about the abuse? Petunia Dursley is Lily Potter's sister, after all. He might have acted in good faith."

Amelia eyed the young woman appraisingly. She was reasonably sure Moody had intended to introduce her into the ranks of Dumbledore's supporters sooner or later. Nothing official or outright illegal, of course, only another link in Dumbledore's web of supporters. The mental aftereffects of Tonks' close encounter with werewolves had scrapped her career as an auror trainee, but Amelia had taken her on as secretary as a favor to her old friend Rufus Scrimgeour, the head auror.

She liked the young woman, but she didn't quite trust her yet. Having her keep the minutes of the different meetings was a risk, but her other, more trustworthy secretaries had even more sensitive tasks to attend to. Besides, this way she could keep an eye on Tonks.

"It's possible Dumbledore doesn't know anything, of course." Amelia finally said. Then she paused for effect. "That is if you don't know that Arabella Figg, a squib and long-time member of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix organization, just happened to move into a new house one street from Privet Drive after Harry was delivered there. She has been watching Harry regularly."

Tonks opened and closed her mouth without saying anything. That piece of information had not come up in the meetings; Amelia knew it only thanks to Abraxas Malfoy's information package. On its own it wasn't very important (and certainly not useful in court), but the implications were nasty. If Amelia could use it to shore up Tonks' loyalty towards her she would consider it well applied.

"She didn't do anything illegal, of course, meaning we have no reason to take her in. Well, I suppose we could ask for her testimony regarding Harry, but I doubt she will spill anything incriminating. After all, her presence and involvement with Harry could be sheer coincidence… just like all the other things Dumbledore set in motion."

"But… but… he's Dumbledore!"

Amelia sighed. "Yes, and exactly this attitude is the problem. You heard some of the Obliviators. Dumbledore asked them to keep trouble away from the Dursleys and Harry and they simply did it without questioning anything." She gestured at the stack of paper in Tonks' hands. "Think about it, Tonks. How many coincidences does it take? He leaves Harry with muggles without even speaking with them and doesn't visit even once for ten long years while he has someone watching the boy unobtrusively. Hypothetically, assume that he knows everything or at least expected the abuse when he dropped Harry off. What does your Auror training say about his behavior?"

Tonks was silent for almost half a minute. "He is distancing himself from Harry's treatment. All interaction with the Dursleys is separated from him by at least one degree. Encounters at Hogwarts are probably casual and limited to short conversations. He can successfully argue that he had no idea and is appalled that his well-meant protection efforts turned out this way. But boss, what if it is really a number of coincidences? I can't believe Dumbledore would let something like this happen."

"Dumbledore is only a man, Tonks, not a saint." Amelia said gently. "His image and legend have grown over the decades, but in the end he is only a man. He has interests, plans and failings, just like everyone else. His status only allows him to get away with more. By now you should be familiar how the Ministry works. Dumbledore has been playing a prominent role for decades. I can tell you firsthand that you don't stay important by being all flowers and goodness."

There were actually tears visible in the corner of Tonks' eyes. "Is that really it? Everyone is a bastard only out for his interests or follows some screwed up ideology?"

Amelia sighed. "This is the way of the world, Tonks. I have done a lot of things I'm not proud of to get where I am. I will not sugarcoat my actions and motives, but I try to achieve some amount of fairness in the world. More importantly, people still challenge me and my views. You know, I belonged to Dumbledore's supporters once."

That seemed to startle the young woman. "You did?"

"Yes. Once upon a time I looked up to Dumbledore."

"What changed?"

"I saw where he led us. Dumbledore might be the most skilled wizard alive, but he is an atrocious leader. We were always reacting to the Death Eater attacks, never acting. He doesn't take council from other people either, always keeping vital information to himself. Good people got killed for nothing that way more than once. It was only after I lost my brother and had time to reflect on what happened that I began to see him for what he is."

"I don't understand."

The older witch looked at the ceiling, searching for the right words. "Dumbledore has this aura about him. He always seems to know what is best and what to do to achieve it. It makes you trust him implicitly." Seeing Tonks confused expression, Amelia elaborated further. "Imagine the following scenario. It's the war against You-know-who. The Ministry doesn't seem to make any progress in the fight, so you join Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix to make a difference. Dumbledore asks you to do something. Maybe it's dangerous, maybe it's illegal. Maybe it's nothing of the sort, just a task you don't necessarily understand the purpose of. You never question why you are doing this, trusting that Dumbledore knows best and has some sort of plan."

Tonks remained silent, listening carefully.

"The problem is that Dumbledore's plan is crap. It simply doesn't work and only gets people killed for nothing, but since nobody has the complete picture due to the old man's secrecy you never notice that. It only ties up resources and people that could be used for the real fight. Most of his supporters believe in him to this day. Everyone thinks Dumbledore has solutions, but he doesn't. In fact, his influence in the Ministry often prevents the solving of problems." She sighed again. "The truth is we would have lost the last war if not for Voldemort's sudden disappearance. By the time the Ministry was ready to treat it like a real war it was already too late. Dumbledore wasn't solely responsible, but he delayed many necessary measures like Barthemius Crouch's wartime act for years and tied up many people willing to fight in his ineffective order."

Tonks nodded slowly. "Okay, I think I understand that. But what is the connection with Harry and the Dursleys?"

"This is complicated and I have to resort to speculation. Firstly, there is one important fact you have to know: Dumbledore believes that You-know-who is still alive and will return." Amelia raised her hand, forestalling an interruption. "I do not know if that is true or what led him to that belief. Even so, he seems to believe that Harry holds the key to defeating him again. I can only imagine he has some sort of plan to facilitate that."

The young witch looked skeptical. "And that is a reason to leave Harry with his abusive muggle relatives and preventing anyone from noticing or intervening?"

Amelia shrugged. "It isn't that far off considering some things Dumbledore pulled before. He was never shy about sacrificing the people on his own side when he deemed it necessary. Most did it willingly. You have to consider that Dumbledore was the one to spread the tale of the Boy-who-lived surviving the killing curse in the first place, making Harry a target. Besides, senility is a real concern for people of Dumbledore's age. In the interest of Harry and the whole magical world we need him gone from power."

Tonks remained silent for a minute before she nodded and stood up. "Thanks, boss. You gave me much to think about."

Amelia remained sitting when Tonks left the room. She hoped this would be enough to prevent the young witch from ever throwing in with Dumbledore's lot. She didn't mention things like the old man's mind magic. At the current time she had no proof and such outlandish sounding claims would only weaken her case.

Then her mind turned to the next issue: Leaking information to the Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter. It was a betrayal of Harry's trust, but she needed the public outcry. Sooner or later it would happen anyway, but she needed a proper smear campaign. Unfortunately it would incite resentment against muggles in general and play into the hands of Malfoy and his faction, but it was necessary.

Amelia only hoped it would be worth it in the end.

* * *

><p>Draco stared at the headlines of the Daily Prophet.<p>

BOY-WHO-LIVED ABUSED BY MUGGLE GUARDIANS

'_This definitely didn't happen in the other timeline.'_

Harry's home situation had never come up in public there. Apparently nobody had grown suspicious and after the second Voldemort war the matter had been moot. Well, it wasn't as if the Harry Draco knew talked about his home, either.

Looking around, Draco saw that the other recipients of the newspaper were growing agitated. Dumbledore was absent, but the other professors were not looking happy. McGonagall in particular looked almost sick while Sprout maintained a grim expression. Harry was leaving the hall, accompanied by Justin, Susan and Hannah. The expression on his face was resigned, but unsurprised.

_'I guess he expected the news getting out sooner or later. This story is far too juicy to stay secret for long.'_

Considering that Harry had been collected by Umbridge only the day before yesterday this was probably 'sooner'.

Draco carefully read the rest of the article while loud conversation erupted all around him. The facts matched with what he knew. It seemed Skeeter had gotten accurate information even if the presentation was somewhat sensationalistic. The question of who exactly had placed Harry with the Dursleys was only tangentially mentioned, but he supposed that was a matter for follow-up articles. In fact, this could easily be seen as the beginning of a smear campaign.

If that was the case it was starting one and a half years early. The Ministry had only started with it after the events of the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort's rebirth in the other timeline. They had needed only two months to remove Dumbledore from the office of Chief Warlock on pure slander. This time they could connect him to actual wrongdoing.

'_Then again, by that time his position was far more weakened than it is now. The Sirius Black affair and the Tournament fiasco did real damage to Dumbledore's reputation. This will probably be a drawn-out fight.'_

Draco wondered what exactly had caused the change. He knew his grandfather had planned on something like this, but he had died before he could finalize his plans. On his own Draco couldn't really do anything, not as a thirteen year old. His options were limited. The thought of a teenager bringing down someone like Dumbledore was laughable. Politics, especially such high-stake ones, were for adults. He had access to some of Grandfather's contacts, but most of them would be hesitant to deal with a boy his age.

'_Grandfather said he planned to set up a contingency for his death. This was probably done by Lord MacDougal or Madam Bones.'_

Either way, there was nothing Draco could do to influence those events, although the development suited him just fine. All the changes had apparently finally caused the timeline to go completely off the rails.

That left the question of how to deal with Sirius (who was currently doused with Draught of the Living Death and safely stored in a hideout on the Malfoy lands). He simply didn't know what to do with the man. Oh, he had said to his friends they would interrogate him regarding his guilt, but Draco already knew of his innocence. One problem was that nobody could actually prove Sirius' innocence. There were enough witnesses to Pettigrew's 'death' that the sentence couldn't be overturned easily. Another problem was that Sirius still believed in Dumbledore, at least if what the other Draco had learned still held true.

Then there were Sirius' prejudices to consider. Those Draco knew well enough from hearing the old Blacks talk about him. His mother had added to that, too. Sirius just wouldn't work with anyone he perceived as pureblood traditionalists. Unfortunately the Malfoy family fit squarely into that pattern.

"…Draco!"

Draco blinked. Morag was poking him in the side and Stephen was almost shouting to get his attention. "Sorry. I was deep in thought."

"We noticed. Breakfast's finished. Class is starting soon." Morag said in a dry tone.

Grabbing his book bag, Draco and his friends headed to their class room. Defense against the Dark Arts had started mediocre and stayed that way for the past months. Emmeline Vance just wasn't that good a teacher. Granted, she was considerably better than Lockhart, but that was faint praise. At least she stuck to the curriculum.

"… Grindylows survive on a diet mainly consisting of fish, algae and small sea creatures, but they will eat human flesh if the opportunity presents itself. This man-eating behavior led to their classification as dark creatures. Their primary habitats are the weed beds at the bottom of lakes in Great Britain and Ireland, but occasionally they have been encountered in rivers and near coasts. The most effective defense…"

Vance droned on and on while the students whispered among themselves. As long as the class wasn't markedly disrupted Vance didn't care. She seemed to grow more unenthusiastic about teaching by the week anyway.

'_She probably only took the job as a favor to Dumbledore.'_

Last year Professors Flitwick and Snape had taken over Defense against the Dark Arts after Lockhart's mishap. Between them they had actually done a good job, but the workload was too large to keep that up for longer than absolutely necessary.

The second part of the class was spent on practical lessons on spellwork. It was better than the droning, at least. Unfortunately the lessons held little appeal for Draco. He spent much of his nominally free time to improve his skills and learn ahead. Professor Vance strictly kept to the standard stuff, making sure the class could successfully cast the required spells and nothing more.

Granted, this year mostly covered specialized spells that were only good against a particular kind of creature. Draco had not bothered learning most of them until now. Even now he only put enough effort into learning them to get good grades. It was likely he would never use them again after the exams. Apart from a few exceptions more general spells would do the job almost as well.

"Finally it's over. I thought it would never end." Stephen exclaimed when they left the classroom.

Draco only shrugged. "Look at the bright side. At least her voice isn't as monotonous as Binns'."

"Right, we have to keep thinking positive. There's only one and a half months to go until Christmas Break. Well, I'm off to Muggle Studies. See you later."

The crowd was thinning out as people left in different directions, leaving Draco alone with Morag as they trailed behind. There was no need to hurry; a free period was occupying their timetable. Since they had chosen the same electives (although Morag had foregone Care for Magical Creatures) they were almost always together.

"Want to visit the library, Draco?"

"No thanks." He looked out a window. The sky was grey, but the weather seemed to hold. "I think I'll fly a few rounds outside. A day without rain is rare and soon it'll be freezing."

Morag nodded in acceptance. "Okay, have fun. I'll track down Daphne. Her grandmother sent a whole photographic album about her stay in Venice. We are thinking of incorporating some things into our dress robe designs for the next season." She frowned slightly. "It's annoying to do that every year, but at least Daphne enjoys it."

Morag was generally uninterested in society life, but as a member of the prestigious MacDougal family she was expected to appear fashionable when she appeared in public during the summer season. Granted, at their age they didn't set any trends and missteps would be (relatively) easily forgiven. It was still prudent to get into the proper habits early. Morag could have gone against the wishes of her mother and ignored it, but she figured it wasn't worth the trouble.

Draco himself had little trouble with that aspect of belonging to the upper class. He didn't exactly thrive on fashion, but he did care for his appearance and the image he projected. The long sessions when he was fitted with new robes were annoying, but thankfully current fashion trends didn't require anything extravagant from men.

Ten minutes later Draco had retrieved his broom and was soaring into the sky. The cool air helped him to clear his head. He settled on a slow course that would take him around the castle and across part of the lake. Considering the presence of the Dementors it was safer not to stray too far.

His thoughts soon turned towards the matter of Sirius again, continuing his interrupted train of thought from earlier. He had still not forgiven himself for his carelessness. His romance with Daphne had distracted him so strongly that he had completely forgotten about the man and his attempt at invading Hogwarts.

'_Okay, I didn't know for certain it would happen in this timeline, but I should have been prepared for the eventuality.'_

As it was only pure luck had allowed them to capture Sirius. He would have to think carefully of what to do with him, but until the Christmas holidays nothing would happen. Using the vanishing cabinet to sneak out of Hogwarts was pretty safe, but each use carried the risk of being discovered.

'_Decisions, decisions. Well, I have the time to make up my mind. There's no need to be hasty.'_

Draco was about to turn back to the castle when he spotted a patch of color at the shore. Shielding his eyes against the wind, he made out a familiar figure wearing a yellow scarf sitting on a boulder.

'_There he is.'_ Draco thought when he adjusted his course.

Setting down gently, Draco secured his broom and approached the figure. "Hey, Harry."

The dark-haired boy looked up from staring into the dark waters of the lake. "Hey." Then he turned back to the lake. Draco sat down on the boulder to Harry's side, keeping his silence. Finally, after almost a minute, Harry spoke again. "You aren't here to say how sorry you are, are you?"

Draco shrugged. "Since I doubt it will make you feel better, no."

"Thanks for that." Harry was silent again. "Everyone seems hell-bent on expressing their pity and that they are sorry they didn't do anything earlier or didn't notice anything. I just couldn't take it anymore and had to get away."

"It's what people do. It makes them feel guilty and apologizing now eases their conscience." Draco shrugged uncomfortably. "I too did notice something wrong, but I figured you didn't want to talk about your life with the muggles. I don't know much about muggle fashion, but the clothes you wore when I met you at Madam Malkin's were a pretty big hint that something was wrong. Grandfather said he would look into it. Unfortunately he never managed to get details from the Ministry about where you lived before he was murdered."

Once again they lapsed into silence. Draco considered releasing the block on Harry's memories regarding the summer spent with Aunt Cassie. The situation looked good right now with the abuse exposed. On the other hand Dumbledore was still Headmaster and Chief Warlock for the time being. If he somehow learned that Draco had been involved in getting Harry away from the Dursleys after their first year it would cause all sorts of alarms going off in the old man's head. Considering how Dumbledore had turned things around during sixth year in the other timeline Draco really didn't want to give the man any reason to look to closely into Draco's activities. Dumbledore's ignorance regarding Draco's knowledge and plans was one of his most valuable assets.

'_Now is not the time.'_ Draco finally decided.

Mindful of the time, Draco stood up. "We should return to the castle if you feel up for it. It's nearly time for lunch."

Harry sighed. "I don't feel like suffering through all those expression of sympathy. I think I'll stay here for a little while longer."

Draco put a hand on Harry's shoulder and looked into his eyes. "It's your decision, but you can't hide in the long run. I can't imagine being in your shoes. I can only tell you how I dealt with all the people approaching me after Grandfather's death. Don't hide. Stick to your friends, but thank them politely for their sympathy and assure them they did nothing wrong. It makes them feel better about themselves and less likely to bother you in the future."

Harry sighed again. "I guess you're right. Let's return to the castle. I only hope this blows over soon."

Unfortunately for Harry the press coverage didn't get any better. As the days and weeks passed the Daily Prophet's campaign only got worse. Even the tiniest detail of Harry's life was brought up and dissected with gusto. Soon questions were asked how he had ended up with the Dursleys. Then it changed to attacks on Dumbledore's character.

Witnessing the political struggle only via newspaper and letters from home, Draco felt like a bystander. He had no way to influence those events.

Fueled by the reports of Harry's abuse the disdain for muggles reached new heights in the student body. Fortunately this hostility spared the muggleborn. In fact, many of them had to deal with inquiries by concerned schoolmates about their home life. The divide was not seen as between muggleborn and purebloods but between wizards and muggles.

Dumbledore was rarely present in the castle. When he was there he looked old and worn, but looks could be deceiving. People seemed almost eager to sacrifice themselves for the man who denied all knowledge of Harry's mistreatment and professed profound sadness and guilt. He certainly didn't surrender his political power quietly.

It could never be traced back to the old man, but embarrassing details about multiple members of the Fudge government came to light in quick succession. Several key figures like the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures had to step down in disgrace. Heated debates in the Wizengamot grew increasingly bitter and vicious as old enmities flared to new life. Sessions were interrupted by challenges to duels, several brawls and displays of accidental magic caused by the heightened emotions as some of the venerated members of the Wizengamot lost their cool.

The most famous incident occurred between the life-long enemies Lilith Blackwood and Griselda Marchbanks when a screaming match about Dumbledore's integrity, policies and sexual prowess escalated into physical violence. The frizzy-haired Lilith punched Griselda so hard that she broke her nose, knocked out several teeth and crashed through the wall of the room.

Then the old biddy got up, re-entered the Wizengamot chambers through the hole her body had created and punched her enemy so hard she turned into a duck. The healers were still baffled.

Fudge's government was tottering at the edge of collapse, but it finally became clear that it wasn't falling. Dumbledore had already lost too much influence in the last couple of years.

Finally, after more than a month of vicious political struggle and political crises the Christmas holidays offered a short reprieve. Until the Wizengamot reconvened in the new year the formal political process would rest (although the informal part would actually reach a peak considering the number of parties and other social events).

Draco had just finished saying goodbye to his friends (many of whom he would meet again over the course of the holidays) when their parents arrived to collect them from King's Cross. Daphne's father gave him the oddest of looks, but didn't say anything.

It was only when the Malfoy family arrived back home that the matter became clear. Instead of allowing Draco and Aquila to retire to their rooms Lucius led them to his study. "There is important news to share. Draco, I have negotiated a betrothal on your behalf. Liam Greengrass has seen fit to promise House Malfoy the hand of his niece Daphne. The alliance between our houses will be strengthened by that union. Congratulations, son."

* * *

><p>Dolores Umbridge was not a happy witch. Getting rid of that old fool Dumbledore was proving to be much harder than expected. It was the last day before the Ministry mostly closed for the holidays and they had still not found anything illegal they could pin on Dumbledore. Whenever something promising came up one of the old man's lackeys admitted to the wrongdoing (of course without Dumbledore's knowledge) and took the fall. It was frustrating. Dumbledore was more slippery than a Blibbering Humdinger (a very rare and very slimy species of worms).<p>

She was perusing everything they had learned in the faint hope of finding anything, anything they could pin on the old man and had overlooked before. Suddenly she stopped, re-reading a section of the document in her hands.

A broad grin spread over her face and a giggle escaped her throat. That giggle soon turned into malicious, cackling, full-blown laughter so strong tears were streaming from her eyes.

'_Yes. Yes, that will serve beautifully.'_

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes: <strong>Thanks for all the reviews.

Well, this chapter took a lot longer than it should have. Unfortunately my available time to write grows ever more limited, especially uninterrupted time. Hopefully the waiting time for the next chapter won't be as extreme.

So long.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 18**

Draco stared at his father. He seemed inordinately smug about the announcement of the engagement between Draco and Daphne Greengrass.

'_He can't really be that stupid.' _was the predominant thought in Draco's head. He wanted to argue, to shout, but he barely managed to bite his tongue and stay silent as to not make the situation worse.

A slight frown appeared on Lucius' face when the silence stretched for too long.

Then Draco's mother intervened. "Dear, he is simply speechless. Isn't that right, Draco?"

Draco forced himself to nod. "This was… unexpected."

The frown receded, but didn't disappear completely. "Very well. You may go."

Draco was in a daze when he returned to his room, not so much about the fact that he had been betrothed to someone but to whom. Sitting down on the edge of his bed, he tried to put his thoughts in order.

He had thought about possible engagements and talked with his grandfather about the matter in the past. They had agreed there was little sense in tying Draco down with a betrothal. It would be far more advantageous to keep all options open until he was actually old enough to go through with a marriage. In the meantime the possibility of an engagement was valuable bait to be used in negotiations… far more valuable than the benefits an actual engagement would bring.

Additionally, Abraxas had brought the family into a comfortable position where they didn't need to barter for the support of another family. They could stand on their own. Their coffers were full, their net of friends and retainers spread wide. Lucius had the ear of Minister Fudge. They were poised to dominate the political landscape with no other family achieving the same degree of influence. Unfortunately Lucius was now at the helm.

The Malfoy and Greengrass families were already allied. As long as Lucius and Liam Greengrass remained the heads of their respective families it would stay that way. Their interests coincided naturally. The engagement added nothing to it. It was simply unnecessary.

For his father to drop something like that on him… before Draco could formulate further thoughts a knock on the door interrupted the silence. "Draco, may I come in?"

He sighed. "Yes, Mother."

Narcissa entered the room and sat down beside him on the bed. "You did well in keeping your calm, but your lack of enthusiasm angered your father."

"I know, but... the entire thing is just stupid."

His mother sighed. "Yes, but it could have been worse. You and Daphne are still a couple, aren't you?"

"Yes, I like Daphne and we are still together." Draco said. In his thoughts he added _'I don't think it will last, though. In the last weeks we have been backsliding into simply being friends.'_

It was true. They were still spending a lot of time together, but the infatuation of first love was slowly fading. He hoped to hold onto the feeling as long as possible, but it was inevitably slipping away. Without his additional memories he wouldn't have recognized the signs, but after the Black incident he had tried to maintain a more honest appraisal of his own state of mind. In a way it spoiled everything he did and felt. Sometimes Draco felt like a crotchety old man. It was surprising to him how moody he had become, too.

His mother nodded. "That was why I tried to steer Lucius towards choosing Daphne. You two like each other. The other most likely option would have been Demelza Nott."

Draco blinked. "Theodore's cousin? But she's only five."

Narcissa smiled sadly. "That wouldn't have stopped your father or Nott. Nott, Greengrass and many other people seem to believe in early betrothals for some reason. More fools they. I wonder if they ever truly look at the records of betrothals and marriages of their families. I assume you remember the time when we went over them?"

"You drilled them into my head well enough, Mother."

A betrothal wasn't legally binding in any form; the motivation to honor it was entirely routed in societal pressure. In fact, they were dissolved and renegotiated more often than not, especially when the happy couple in question was rather young with many years to go before their marriage. Of course, each change lessened the perceived value of the betrothal. Samuel Vane, the 'Weathervane', was still rather infamous after more than a century for having switched the betrothal agreements of his five children more than twenty times… each.

That wasn't even mentioning the people who simply decided to defy their families. Nobody could force anyone to marry against their will. There were consequences, of course, both in the court of public opinion and personal. Recalcitrant men and women could easily find themselves expelled from their families and with all financial support cut. In that situation it became rather difficult to make a living.

Draco was in the rather comfortable position that he was the Malfoy family's only heir. Additionally, he had access to a lot of wealth his grandfather entrusted to him. That didn't mean Lucius couldn't make life very unpleasant for him, especially while he was a minor.

"Did we at least get something valuable out of the deal?" Draco finally asked.

Narcissa's expression became slightly brittle. "The eternal friendship and staunch support of the Greengrass family."

"You are kidding me, aren't you?"

"Draco, when have I ever joked about matters such as these? I can only hope he doesn't do the same with your sister. He did make some remarks in that direction."

He shook his head. "I don't believe it. Can't you do anything?"

"Lucius will not listen. Not to you, not to me, not to anyone."

"Grandfather would have never have done that. He would have talked to me, too, before he made any decision of such a magnitude."

Narcissa put her hands on his shoulders, gently but firmly forcing him to look into her eyes. "Draco, Abraxas is dead. He gave you a lot of liberties. Your father is now the head of the family and he is a very different man. You have to face reality. Do not provoke him."

Anger swelled inside Draco and he raised his voice. "Should I remain silent when Father makes dumb decision after dumb decision?"

Narcissa was silent for a few seconds, obviously considering how to best respond. "Draco, what I will tell you now can never be allowed to reach the ears of your father. Do you understand?

Draco nodded, trying to put a lid on his anger. He didn't want to shout at his mother, but the temptation was there.

His mother waited until he had regained his control before continuing. "In many ways your father is a weak man. He isn't stupid, but he has a far too high opinion of himself and his skills. I'm not sure if Lucius realizes it, but he strives for the approval and acknowledgement of those he sees as his equals. He likes to hear how clever and powerful he is. There are some who recognize that weakness and seek to take advantage. It has already happened more than once that our family didn't get what it should have out of a deal."

Draco stared at his mother in surprise. He had never thought she would openly admit to something like this.

"Don't mistake me; I do love Lucius. That does not mean I'm blind to his faults." She sighed. "He doesn't take well to being counseled. If he has gotten an idea into his head and formed an opinion he will stick to it. Case in point, your betrothal. Lucius would have betrothed you to _someone_ from our allied families in the next few months. All I could do was to make sure the choice was bearable."

"Thank you for that." Draco said, albeit grudgingly. "I suppose it is a good thing that I actually like my betrothed. Why the secrecy?"

Narcissa shrugged. "I'm not sure. I suppose it was Lucius' idea for an early Christmas present. He thinks this is something very good." She rose and her way to the door. "You have to learn how to deal with your father. Most importantly, do not oppose him. Make him feel clever. Some shows of admiration wouldn't be out of place. You are a bright child. I'm sure you will figure it out."

Once she had left Draco leant back, staring at the canopy above him. It had been enchanted to show the constellations in their mythological form, performing a slow dance.

'_I didn't expect this.'_

A betrothal had always been a possibility, but Draco had thought he had averted it until he came of age. Apparently he had been mistaken. He wasn't exactly unhappy, but he couldn't say that he was glad, even if it was Daphne. He would have preferred for their relationship to remain without the added pressure.

Fortunately there were not many new obligations for him due to the betrothal. He would be expected to spend time with Daphne on social occasions and dance with her first, but that was something he was inclined to do anyway.

At Hogwarts, quite a number of the Seventh Years from the old families had betrothal agreements, with decreasing numbers the lower the year. Theodore Nott and Pansy Parkinson had been betrothed since second year, making them the youngest couple. A few had joined them since then, meaning he wouldn't stand out.

Their current relationship notwithstanding, Draco and Daphne would only be expected to act like a real couple once they graduated and the actual marriage loomed near. It was virtually certain they would date other people during their time at Hogwarts. Still, he couldn't help but feel resentment about not even being consulted about his future wife.

'_I wonder what Daphne thinks about this.'_

The betrothal could make things uncomfortable between them, now or when their current relationship ended. Daphne was a smart girl, but she simply lacked the perspective his additional memories gave him.

Draco got up with a sigh. He might as well get ready for bed. There was much to do during the holidays and he needed to be well-rested. He could only hope his father wouldn't make more stupid decisions and ruin the family.

* * *

><p>Ginny froze in her tracks when she heard someone approaching. Thinking quickly, she hid behind an empty suit of armor. A few moments later Argus Filch came into view. Fortunately his horrible cat wasn't with him. Ginny loved cats, but she made an exception for Mrs. Norris.<p>

Without stopping or looking in her direction Filch continued on his way. Ginny waited for half a minute until she was sure he wasn't coming back.

'_Does the man ever sleep?' _she thought while continuing on her way.

Sometimes it seemed as if Filch was always on patrol to find troublemakers or students he declared as such. Considering that Ginny was breaking the rules by being out and about after curfew she didn't want to meet him.

Hogwarts was feeling extremely empty with most of the students away for the Christmas holidays. Ginny and her brothers stayed here as did a few other students. Many of the professors did, too. Ginny wondered if they didn't have any private lives.

Finally she arrived at her destination. After tapping the stones of a nearby wall in a certain sequence she entered the now-revealed secret room. A large wooden cabinet was the only piece of furniture present. It was a vanishing cabinet and somehow able to circumvent all of Hogwarts' protections that should have prevented all transportation magic from working.

Ginny entered it without hesitation after closing the secret door behind her. A moment of vertigo followed. When she left the cabinet she was in an entirely different location, hundreds of miles away from Hogwarts.

The room she emerged in was not as empty as the one she had left. Carpets, wall hangings, a comfortable chair, a small table and a well-filled bookshelf made it considerably more pleasant than the bare stone cell at the Hogwarts end.

Grabbing one of the books, Ginny settled down in the chair. It might be a while before Draco and the others arrived. They had been unable to coordinate properly, meaning Ginny had to go by the time they had agreed upon beforehand. She hoped it wouldn't be too long.

About half an hour passed before the door suddenly opened, revealing Draco, Aquila and Daphne. "Hello Ginny. Sorry to leave you waiting. My parents left later than I thought."

"Don't worry, I don't mind."

"Did you have any problems leaving the Gryffindor tower?" Aquila asked.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Please. They got Sir Cadogan to guard the entrance ever since Black slashed the Fat Lady's painting. He is a complete fool. You-know-who himself would be able to stroll up to him and gain entrance as long as he knew the right password."

"Come on. We have a prisoner to interrogate." Draco said before leading the group into another room.

Sirius Black was sitting in a massive chair, completely still. Solid bands of rune-covered iron held his body in place, allowing no chance of escape. He looked much better than last Halloween. His hair had been cut, his nails trimmed, the filth removed and his rags replaced with clean clothing. It took Ginny a moment to realize that he wasn't breathing.

"Is that normal?"

"The stillness you mean? Yes. Almost any medical examination would show Black being dead. It's called Draught of Living Death for a reason. I got Dobby to clean him up." Draco explained. "I need to get the potions. Wait here."

"So… how was your Christmas?" Ginny asked Aquila once Draco had left the room.

The blonde girl shrugged. "Stressful. Brother got engaged to Daphne here and we had to visit a different party every day."

Ginny felt a stab somewhere inside, but she shoved the feeling aside immediately. "Congratulations."

"Thank you."

"Well, how are things at Hogwarts?" Aquila asked to break the ensuing silence.

"Quiet and empty. There are streamers of holly and mistletoe in every hallway. They put twelve Christmas trees into the Great Hall. It's a shame there are hardly any students there to see it."

"I see. Do you always spend Christmas at Hogwarts?" Daphne asked.

"Yes." Another awkward silence followed.

The topic made Ginny uncomfortable. She wasn't quite sure why her parents always let them stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. It was only her second time, but the first she really thought about it. Last year her attention had been firmly occupied by the cursed diary.

It might be that they wanted to let them experience a proper feast, but Ginny felt that wasn't enough of an explanation. This way they didn't see their parents for most of a year. It wasn't as if she had missed anything when they celebrated Christmas at home without expensive decorations. The fact that fewer siblings remained each year was another matter. She was too young to remember the time when Bill and Charlie had yet to visit Hogwarts, but she clearly remembered the absence of first Percy, then the twins and finally Ron. Additionally, it led people to remark that the Weasleys were too poor to give their children a proper Christmas.

'_I really should ask Mom and Dad why they do that.'_

Then Draco returned, carrying a small chest he put down on a nearby table.

"Where did you get all these potions, brother?" Aquila asked, inspecting the contents. "Some of them are really rare and expensive."

"Grandfather left them for me to use."

Daphne arched an eyebrow. "A secret lair with access to Hogwarts, expensive potions… what exactly did your grandfather leave you?"

"A lot."

"That isn't very detailed."

Draco shrugged off the remark. "We don't have time now. The sooner we finish this the better." He removed five flasks from the chest. "Draught of Living Death, the assorted antidote, something to make Black docile, Veritaserum and Veritaserum antidote. Let's wake up Black and hear what he has to say."

An hour later they had some answers. No, Black didn't kill Pettigrew and all those Muggles. No, he didn't betray the Potters, Pettigrew did. Yes, Pettigrew was alive, a Death Eater and a rat animagus. Yes, Pettigrew was Scabbers. Yes, Pettigrew betrayed the Potters, killed the muggles and framed Black for it. No, Black didn't tell anyone about the truth before he tried to track Pettigrew down. Yes, he had recognized Pettigrew in a newspaper picture and escaped from Azkaban.

Daphne summarized the group's feelings. "What a mess."

Ginny had to agree. "Can we get him exonerated?"

"Not a chance. There's only Black's word. That won't suffice. You know truth serums aren't permissible in court." Draco ran a hand through his hair. "Heck, he might have only convinced himself that he is innocent. After more than a decade in Azkaban his mind is bound to be in very bad shape."

Daphne frowned. "Wait a second. Did anybody ever visit you in prison or interrogated you about your role in the war, Black?"

"No." Black answered.

"That is suspicious." Daphne declared. "You'd think Dumbledore or any of his friends would want to know what else he did if they believed him guilty."

"We can discuss that in a bit. Are there any more questions?" Draco asked. When nobody spoke up he dosed Black with the antidote and another dose of Draught of Living Death. "I don't want Black to overhear us. He shouldn't remember anything, but better safe than sorry."

Daphne waited until Black had returned to complete stillness before she spoke up again. "So… about my suspicions?"

"I agree with you." Draco said. "Everyone in my family always said how convenient it was for Sirius to be imprisoned. Think about the mess regarding Potter. Sirius would have become his guardian if he had been free. There would have been no way he would have left him with those muggles and never checked up on him all those years." Then he shrugged. "It might have been Dumbledore that wanted him out of the way. It might have been others. It might have been happenstance and the old man simply decided to take advantage after the fact."

"What do we do with him now?" Aquila asked.

"For the time being, nothing. I can't think of anything we can do to make a difference. We can keep Black safe here until we think of something. Perhaps during the summer. He is family, after all. Or does anyone have a better idea?" Draco asked.

"Why not wake him up properly? He could prove helpful." Ginny said.

"Maybe. On the other hand he seemed quite deranged when we encountered him at Hogwarts. I don't think we can trust him." Daphne said.

Draco hummed thoughtfully. "I agree. Sirius isn't exactly sane. Just think of his harebrained plan to get at Pettigrew instead of fleeing Britain. He could have escaped from Azkaban far earlier with his abilities, but he was so far gone that only the possibility of revenge managed to get him to act. I don't believe he would trust us, either."

"So we simply keep him here?"

"Why not? It isn't as if he is aging while under the influence of the draught. We could keep him that way for decades, until we are all adults. By that time nobody will care about Black anymore. We wake him up in, say, twenty or thirty years, get him professional help. If he recovers we arrange a new life for him in another country. If not, well, then it's an asylum."

"That…" Ginny stopped herself and thought about the matter. "… is actually a pretty good plan."

It was ruthless, yes, but they couldn't exactly set Black free or turn him in. That would only end with him back in Azkaban or his soul sucked out. She didn't know if it was Dumbledore who was out to get Black or someone else or if he was really innocent in the first place. If they set him free it was highly likely Black would be caught sooner or later. If he talked to anyone about them it would be troublesome, troublesome and dangerous. This was they could postpone a true decision.

"Okay, does everyone agree?" Draco asked. Everyone nodded. "Then it's decided. We keep him here for the time being."

Draco and Daphne soon left to spend some time together and give Aquila and Ginny time to talk.

"So… these two are now betrothed?"

Aquila nodded. "Yes, and it's been pretty awkward between them since. The many parties and public attention didn't really help."

"I guess it would be awkward; I wouldn't know." Ginny paused a moment. "What about you? Did your parents line something up for you, too?"

"No, not yet, fortunately. I hope it stays that way for a while. Let's talk about something different." She gave Ginny a piercing look and waved at her surroundings. "How long have you known about all this? You aren't surprised in the slightest."

"For some time. Sorry, I can't be more specific; I promised Draco I wouldn't say anything."

Ginny shifted uncomfortably under Aquila's gaze. She didn't like keeping secrets from her friend, but she really didn't want to open the can of worms of Riddle's diary and her interaction with Abraxas Malfoy.

"You know I won't let it rest. We will talk about this later."

Ginny looked at her defiantly. "I can't stop you asking, but I won't answer."

Aquila sighed. "I don't want to argue. Let's talk about something different."

Sometime later Ginny returned to Hogwarts. Fortunately she didn't encounter anyone on her way back to the tower. The painting guarding the entrance proved no problem, either. Sir Cadogen was half-asleep and simply opened the way without even looking at her when she gave the password.

Gryffindor Tower was dark and silent. It didn't seem as if anyone had noticed her absence. Ginny was always a bit worried about that. Her brothers Fred and George had an uncanny ability to track people down. On the other hand, they had not noticed her abnormal behavior during the last year. She could only hope it would stay that way.

* * *

><p>Daphne smiled brightly despite her drowsiness. "It was a wonderful evening, Draco."<p>

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll see you at Hogwarts in a few days. Sleep well."

Her boyfriend kissed her hand before he withdrew. A few minutes later Daphne stepped out of the green flames of the floo in her family home.

Daphne kept the smile firmly on her face until she was in the privacy of her room. Then it changed into a pensive expression. Ever since the announcement of the betrothal there was a new distance between her and Draco. She didn't know how it had appeared and what to do about it. Their interaction always felt a bit forced.

On the other hand, she had learned a bit of what Draco was up to. It was only scratching at the surface, but it was a beginning. The sign of trust was encouraging. It seemed her betrothed was incredibly resourceful. It was so exciting to take part in the Black affair, acting like real conspirators.

The involvement of the Weasley girl was suspicious, though. She seemed to know more than Draco's sister, something that irked Aquila to no end. Daphne had no opinion about Ginny one way or the other apart from a general dislike of the Weasley family, but she despised her older brothers.

'_Well, I suppose Percy is alright. He is somewhat of a pompous ass, but at least he isn't a bully like the twins or a fool like Ron. I wonder how the friendship with Aquila and Draco came to be. It would give both the Malfoys and Weasleys fits if they knew what their children are up to.'_

It would bear watching.

* * *

><p>It was the second-to-last day of the Christmas holidays and once again Draco was visiting Sirius. Unknown to his sister and his friends he had done that almost every night. The shelf-life of his supply of veritaserum was about to run out and didn't want to waste it. There were a lot of questions he had asked his cousin, about his time at Hogwarts, the first Voldemort war and the Order of the Phoenix.<p>

All in all the answers had reinforced what he already knew or suspected, but it didn't hurt to get confirmation.

Firstly, Dumbledore didn't have the foggiest notion how to properly fight against Voldemort. In fact, during the first war he had proven to be one of the biggest factors impeding a proper response by the Ministry. The Order of the Phoenix had been purely reactive, more busywork than actually productive resistance.

It had been very interesting to learn how Dumbledore cultivated possible recruits during their last Hogwarts years. The man's force of personality was outright scary.

Secondly, Sirius was a very brave and loyal person… as well as an inconsiderate asshole and a fool. Two occurrences from his Hogwarts days illustrated that very well.

Being friends with the werewolf Remus Lupin wasn't a problem. Learning to become an animagus to keep him company during the transformation was an admirable display of friendship. Allowing Lupin to leave his confinement and roam across the countryside surrounding Hogwarts was an act of such sheer irresponsibility that it took Draco's breath away. The group had been literally one mistake away from Lupin attacking some unlucky late-night wanderer, especially because they had regularly strayed into the outskirts of Hogsmeade. Worse, they had kept that up until they finished Hogwarts.

The failure of the Hogwarts staff to actually use a secure holding area and monitoring that Lupin stayed there was barely worth mentioning.

The second act was Sirius pointing Snape into the direction of Lupin with the full expectation that the werewolf would murder the man. Draco could understand that Sirius hated Snape and didn't care if he died. No, the problem was that Sirius had never once considered what it would have done to his friend Lupin if his plan had been successful. What would the man feel when he discovered he had killed or at least mauled another human? Additionally, if that incident had reached the authorities Lupin would have been as good as dead.

'_Well, it is likely Dumbledore would have covered it up. If it had become known that he allowed a werewolf to attend Hogwarts the public outcry would have been truly staggering.'_

All in all Draco now knew that he couldn't trust Sirius under any circumstances. He was far too unpredictable. Even sane he would never agree to work with Draco.

Draco sighed. "What should I do with you?"

The sedated man didn't answer.

The most convenient solution would be to kill Sirius, make it look as if some animal had mauled him and dump his body somewhere where it would be found by the wizarding authorities. His confirmed death would allow the Black inheritance to pass on to Draco and Harry.

Unfortunately it was impossible. His sister, Ginny and Daphne knew about him having Black under lock and key. They wouldn't react well to such a thing. Well, and Draco didn't actually want to kill anyone, especially not a family member.

Letting Sirius go or trying to work with him was infeasible. If Sirius somehow ended back under Dumbledore's influence it would give the old man too much to work with and open another avenue to influence Harry.

That left shipping Sirius off to another country. There were… institutions for dealing with unwelcome people that had to be kept alive for one reason or another. Some were rather comfortable. Some were not. That would actually better for Sirius than keeping him in his death-like state; he wouldn't miss decades that way. It would be difficult to arrange, though. Without his grandfather Draco couldn't really use the appropriate contacts, not at his age.

Draco sighed. _'I guess that means I have to keep him here, at least for a few years.'_

His thoughts turned to other matters. Pettigrew was out there. Perhaps he had already found Voldemort. The timetable might have completely changed from what his other self had experienced.

Draco wished he could do something about it. Keeping Voldemort in his incorporeal state would be preferable, especially considering that Dumbledore was already under heavy political attack. He might not need Voldemort to take care of the old man. Unfortunately it was too late to do anything about it. He supposed he could try to sabotage the resurrection ritual, but there was no way any tampering would remain undiscovered. There were alternative rituals that Voldemort could use, too.

'_I wonder if the Triwizard Tournament is already in preparation.'_

He hoped to avoid that insanity, but he suspected Crouch was already pushing the idea in secret. It was the man's last bid for public recognition and attempt at a political comeback. During the first Voldemort war he had been the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and one of the few leaders who had actually the right ideas for the fight against the Dark Lord. Had he been able to implement his policies earlier the war could have been won without the miraculous disappearance of Voldemort.

If things had gone differently Crouch would have succeeded Millicent Bagnold as Minister for Magic soon after the war. Unfortunately his son had turned out to be a fanatical Death Eater, scrapping his career quite effectively. Instead they got nine more years under the incompetent Bagnold.

Draco knew that Crouch junior was still alive and hidden in his father's house. He had thought long and hard about doing something about it. All it would take was an anonymous letter. It would remove one of Voldemort's remaining assets, but it would discredit Crouch once and for all at the same time.

That had its own share of problems. Crouch was solidly anti-Dumbledore. Without him the political balance might well shift towards Dumbledore and that was something Draco was unwilling to allow. It seemed as if the old man was about to lose a great deal of his remaining power. Nothing could be allowed to interfere with that goal.

'_Well, I have to wait how the current crisis plays out.'_

* * *

><p>The chambers of the Wizengamot were awash with noise when Amelia Bones took her seat. There were more people than usual. Even a group from the Wizarding Wireless Network was present to broadcast the proceedings.<p>

This session would be important. Deals had been made over the holidays to end the investigation into the various irregularities and political infighting. All in all Amelia was content with what she had achieved. It wasn't as much as she had hoped, but more than she had feared.

The committee of inquiry that had been formed in the wake of the Potter-Dursley scandal would give its final report, giving recommendations which people should be prosecuted in a formal trial. Amelia couldn't wait until the last pronouncement. It wouldn't be what most people expected. Against all odds she and Dolores had managed to keep it secret. The idea the squat witch had come up with was simply marvelous.

Finally the session began and the chamber fell silent.

After a few formalities Dolores rose. "Hem, hem. Witches and Wizards, deeds most foul have been committed by members of the Ministry, abusing the trust and authority invested in them. In the past weeks and months countless accusations have been leveled. The Committee of Inquiry has been charged with determining the truth. Now it is time to give the final report. We will begin with…"

Amelia tried to look alert while they worked through the list of events and names. They would be here for hours.

The majority of cases were related to corruption or incompetence in the Ministry, but what was aired to the public was only the tip of the iceberg. Corruption was inherent to how things worked. Amelia didn't like it, but at least they had been able to weed out the worst cases… and incidentally got rid of a few Dumbledore supporters in the process, too.

The last point on the list was Harry Potter and his time with the Dursleys.

Dumbledore had been smart enough to secretly legitimize all his decisions or disassociate himself from the not defensible ones. Millicent Bagnold, the previous Minister for Magic had been eating out of the old man's palm. She had been all too eager to do everything he wanted. Nothing about Harry's placement with the Dursleys was prosecutable. There was no proof Dumbledore had known anything about the abominable treatment of Harry.

The old man had proven extremely tenacious. The political battle of the last months had been vicious and hard-fought. Dumbledore had almost managed to sink the Fudge government. Fortunately he had been unsuccessful. Favors had been called in; scapegoats had taken the fall for misdeeds; the public had been bombarded with a variety of propaganda. Now both sides were worn-out. Amelia and her allies didn't have enough political capital left to completely curtail Dumbledore's influence and he didn't have enough to topple the government.

Dumbledore had admitted in a public speech to 'tragic mistakes' and 'misplaced trust in family', apologizing profusely. Being the exceptionally gifted speaker that he was he had managed to sway a not inconsiderable part of the public. It wasn't enough to save his position at the International Confederation of Wizards, but Amelia wasn't sure they could kick him out of the Wizengamot… at least not without the little surprise they had in store.

Finally the time she had been waiting for arrived: Dolores was about to announce the committee's verdict about the last and most prominent person on the list.

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore stands accused of a variety of misdeeds. After careful consideration this committee has come to the conclusion that there is not enough evidence to bring any charges before this assembly…" she paused a moment. "… save one. By the power invested in us by the Wizengamot, we hereby charge Albus Dumbledore with the crime of aggravated muggle-baiting."

It took a few moments for the words to sink in.

"Like father, like son. Always the hypocrite, eh Albus?" the ancient Lady Applebee cackled.

The look on Dumbledore's face was something Amelia would treasure forever. Then the Wizengamot chambers erupted in pandemonium when everyone started shouting at the same time.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong> It lives! Sorry about the glacial update schedule. We are more than half-way through the story and I hope to finish it in a relatively timely manner.


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 19**

The Great Hall of Hogwarts was as noisy as ever during dinner. That changed when a flock of owls swooped in, delivering a special edition of the Daily Prophet.

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE ACCUSED OF MUGGLE-BAITING

HYPOCRITE OR DECEIVER?

'_I didn't expect that.' _Draco thought when he read the article regarding the day's Wizengamot session.

Shocked silence was spreading outwards from those with newspapers as more and more students became aware of what was happening, although soon shouts of disbelief and loud discussions shattered the silence. Most of the teachers beat a hasty retreat, leaving only a confused-looking (and not entirely sober) Sybill Trelawney behind to supervise the students.

Having finished reading the article, Draco passed the newspaper to others at the table and leant back in his seat, staring at the ceiling. Dumbledore being accused of muggle-baiting would rock the entire wizarding world. Whoever had come up with those specific charges was a genius… a genius with a nasty streak several miles wide.

The published details were sparse at this time, but as far as Draco could tell the charges were completely true. The Dursleys had been hounded by a deluge of Hogwarts admittance letters over the span of several days back when Harry was about to turn eleven. It didn't matter that they had not let Harry read them – neither he nor them had a way of replying. Two or three attempts before sending someone to check on things would have been understandable, but the sheer number of letters was a sign that someone had deliberately done it to harass and antagonize the muggles… something that Dumbledore had gone to great lengths to make illegal.

This avenue of attack was something Draco honestly had not considered. Not only were the Dursleys only muggles, they were horrible human beings – in short, they were less than scum. Who cared that some wizard had been mean to them?

'_The Dursleys' despicability will blunt the scandal somewhat.'_ he judged. _'But in the end this will be one of the single most damaging accusations that could have been leveled against the old man.'_

Dumbledore had always styled himself as a proponent of muggle rights. If it could be proven that he had partaken in the abuse of muggles it would damage his political career more than anything else that had been brought up in the last months. Hypocrisy was not something the public admired.

'_I wonder why he didn't do anything to cover it up.'_

Then again, maybe he had. Harry had never talked about the particulars of his life with the Dursleys. The Dursleys were unlikely to ever interact with the wizarding world. Even if that happened such a specific incident was unlikely to come up.

"Do you think they will try to throw Dumbledore into Azkaban?" a Ravenclaw from further down the table asked.

"Don't be ridiculous. He's Dumbledore; they can't do that."

"You mean he will get away with it just because he's Dumbledore?"

"What's that supposed to mean? Of course he didn't do it; he's Dumbledore!"

"That doesn't mean he didn't do it!"

The discussions were growing rather heated, Draco thought. It was interesting to observe the distribution of the different opinions. A year ago hardly anybody would have believed the validity of the charges. Now, after the months-long mudslinging campaign of the last year, matters were different. It was difficult to get a clear reading, but a sizable majority of students actually seemed to believe the Ministry over Dumbledore.

Draco turned his head when he heard a loud crash over the noise of the arguments. It came from the Gryffindor table. Apparently somebody had punched the Seventh year prefect Percy Weasley in the face, causing him to fall over the table.

The situation escalated quickly. Without effective oversight (Trelawney was gaping like a fish) nobody was able to curb the tempers, the prefects not being up to the task. Fists flew and foodstuff was used as a projectile. The Great Hall descended into chaos.

A tug on Draco's sleeve made him focus on his neighbor Morag. "Yes?"

"Duck."

Draco didn't try to think, he just acted. A moment later a pastry sailed through the space his head had just vacated. Then spells began to be flung around. Draco, realizing the seriousness of the situation, now took cover under the table, dragging Morag and Stephen with him.

"I think we should leave." Draco said.

"You don't say!" Stephen replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he wiped gravy from his face.

Scrabbling underneath the table, the trio managed to avoid being targeted or hit by stray shots. Unfortunately they had to cross open ground to reach the door. A hard-cooked egg splattered onto Stephen's back while a half-chicken bounced off Draco's hastily raised arm. Morag side-stepped a brown-pink spell and ducked under a pudding without being hit. Then they were out of the door and immediately turned sideways to get out of the line of fire.

Draco stopped and carefully looked around the corner back into the hall. The fighting continued unabated, but a steady stream of students was escaping. He saw Ginny hiding under the staff table along with Neville and Hermione. There was no way for them to get out of the hall.

'_At least nobody seems to be using any truly dangerous spells.'_

Then he spied his sister, Daphne, her sister and the Carrow twins making their way towards the exit. Unfortunately Peeves had joined the fray and was bombarding them with various foodstuffs, impeding their progress.

'_Not on my watch.' _Draco thought. Looking around, he spied a first year student just leaving the hall carrying a bowl of porridge.

"Excuse me, I'll take that." he said when he lifted it from the boy's hands.

"Hey, I wanted to eat it!" the boy shouted, but Draco had stopped paying attention. Instead he took aim and banished the bowl at Peeves, hitting the poltergeist right in the face. That proved distraction enough for the group to leave the chaos of the hall behind.

All of them had bits of food clinging to them, but thankfully they didn't seem to have been hit by any spells.

"Thanks for the help, brother."

"Don't mention it." he answered while he turned towards Daphne, making sure his girlfriend was alright. "Are you okay?"

"I have been better." Daphne said while she removed bits of food from her robe.

Now that his friends were safe Draco turned his attention back on their surroundings. Dozens of students were milling around in front of the Great Hall, apparently unsure of what to do.

"Has anybody informed the teachers?" Draco asked in a loud voice. There was some mumbling and uncertain looks. It appeared as if nobody had done anything. "Then I'll go."

"I'll come with you." Daphne said.

It didn't take long for the two of them to reach the staffroom. Two gargoyles guarded the entrance. Draco addressed them. "There is an emergency. I need to speak with a teacher."

At first there seemed to be no reaction. Then the door opened, revealing McGonagall. She was about to say something when she noticed their appearance and stopped in her tracks. "Mr. Malfoy! Miss Greengrass! What happened to you?"

"There is fighting in the Great Hall, Professor. Everyone was arguing, somebody started punching and suddenly everyone was fighting with food and spells." Draco explained hurriedly.

McGonagall's mouth thinned into a line. She seemed to be very angry. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Please return to your dormitories immediately. I will declare a curfew."

Then she turned around and called the other teachers. A few seconds later the group of adults marched towards the Great Hall. Draco and Daphne watched them go.

"Not the most promising start into the new year." Daphne remarked.

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Then Draco paused. "You have cucumber in your hair, you know."

Daphne ran her fingers through her hair, unsuccessfully trying to remove the offending piece of vegetable. "Blech. I don't even like cucumber."

"Let me." Draco disentangled the piece of cucumber from Daphne's hair before putting it into his mouth. "Needs dressing."

That got a chuckle out of Daphne. "If you say so." She sighed. "Let's return to our dormitories. I need a shower."

The rest of the day passed rather quickly. Flitwick gave the house a speech how disappointed he was. Since nobody could say who had really started the fighting the entire school was punished. One week curfew – students were escorted by teachers or prefects from class to class; leaving the house rooms was forbidden outside of that; Hogsmeade visits were cancelled for an entire month.

Since the weather turned absolutely miserable with near daily snowstorms Draco actually didn't mind the last part too much. More aggravating was being penned up in the common room. The fifth years had their OWLs coming up in a few months and the seventh years their NEWTs, meaning that they were studying hard and didn't appreciate any loud interruptions.

Still, the free-for-all brawl got Draco thinking. As far as he could tell it had been hardcore Dumbledore supporters who threw the first punch since they had no arguments left. A few months ago everyone would have laughed at the charges. Now they were a clear minority. Of course, the student body wasn't representative of the wizarding world at large.

The charge of aggravated muggle-baiting only carried a hefty fine, not a prison sentence, but it was indeed a criminal act. Whatever else happened, everybody would be able to beat Dumbledore around the head with that forever.

* * *

><p>"I know what you have done. The offense carries a sentence of one year in Azkaban… at a minimum."<p>

The voice was barely a whisper. "No, not Azkaban. Not again…"

Amelia Bones watched the large man collapse into himself. She kept her face expressionless, but she felt some amount of pity for the man. On the other hand, he had brought it onto himself.

"Mr. Hagrid, Dudley Dursley was a child. A rather nasty child perhaps, but still a child."

"But it was only…"

"Only what? Only a muggle, Mr. Hagrid?"

"NO! Only a pig's tail."

"Because you botched the spell. We both know perfectly well you intended to turn the boy into a pig."

Hagrid began to stammer incoherently.

"Mr. Hagrid, as loathsome as this form of muggle-baiting is, it carries only a fine. The pertinent matter is that you used magic deliberately, something you are forbidden to do. If it comes before the Wizengamot you will end up in Azkaban for sure." She let him stew for a few seconds longer. "I am prepared to offer you a deal."

The half-giant's featuers twisted in surprise, then anger. "No!" He rose from the chair. "I won't tell yer anything to twist against the Headmaster. Great man, Dumbledore."

"Be silent." The words snapped like a whip and Hagrid immediately sat back down. "Harry pleaded with me on your behalf. I would not be doing this otherwise." She steepled her hands. "Now, you will stay silent and listen. As Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement I am authorized to handle cases like yours without involving the Wizengamot. There is enough precedence. Instead of sending you to prison I will allow you to sign a confession and serve five years of labor in service to the Ministry of Magic… outside of Britain."

"But…"

"I said you are to stay silent. There is news from the African Confederation of Wizard Kingdoms. King Djedhor is newly ascended to the throne. Britain will be sending a delegation and a number of gifts as will the other European countries. Djedhor is known to have an interest in dangerous magical creatures. Therefore, there will be many magical animals among the gifts. If you agree you will be sent along to work in Djedhor's menagerie for five years, caring for the beasts from Europe. After that time you are free to decide what to do with your life."

Amelia watched Hagrid's face attentively. The plethora of emotions warring against each other was a sight to see. He wanted to go, but he also wanted to remain in Hogwarts. The half-giant was totally incapable of keeping his thoughts secret… or anything else. It was clear that he really didn't like her, though. Considering his hero worship of Dumbledore that was to be expected.

'_Carrot and stick. It never gets old.'_

In truth, a trial before the Wizengamot would have served Amelia's goals better. It could have been used to further damage Dumbledore. This offer was solely to gain goodwill with Harry. The boy saw Hagrid as a friend and Amelia didn't want to alienate him. She couldn't overlook the crime because her allies wouldn't let it stand, but she could justify sending Hagrid out of the country instead of sending him to Azkaban.

Harry had kept silent about that part of his introduction into the magical world during his interview, but the Dursleys had not when questioned extensively. Originally it had slipped through the cracks (nobody really cared that much about muggles, particularly such nasty ones), but when Amelia reviewed all transcripts in light of Dolores' plan to charge Dumbledore with muggle baiting it had come up again. During the holidays she had questioned Harry again and he had let things slip.

Once the boy had realized the seriousness of the situation he had pleaded for Hagrid to be spared. This was an acceptable compromise. It meant one pawn less at Dumbledore's disposal. The old man didn't have many contacts in Africa and all communication would have to go through Britain's embassy.

Finally Hagrid came to a decision, looking disgruntled but resigned. "I'll take yer offer, Merlin be damned."

"Excellent. We will put the deal in writing immediately. You have until next month to put your affairs in order."

Once Hagrid had left Amelia allowed herself a small smile. Now only the trial had to go well.

* * *

><p>"Those in favor of clearing the accused of all charges?" Cornelius Fudge asked.<p>

Lucius Malfoy counted quickly. There were more raised hands than he had hoped for, although the number was rather small overall. It seemed some people were completely inconvincible no matter the evidence.

"And those in favor of conviction?"

Lucius raised his hand along with quite a number of other people. Again he counted quickly. Then he had to suppress a smile. It had worked.

"I think the result is clear. Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, this court finds you guilty of aggravated muggle-baiting. You are to pay a fine of one thousand galleons. You have one week to pay the full sum."

Dumbledore tried to preserve what dignity he had, but he wasn't very successful. Lucius didn't listen to his words; he observed the Wizengamot and other people present. Most didn't seem inclined to believe Dumbledore's apologies, not this time.

'_Hoisted by his own petard.'_

It almost beggared belief. Dumbledore himself had led the effort to enact the current strict laws regarding muggle-baiting. He disregarding them so blatantly said interesting things about his general sincerity. It confirmed the very low opinion Lucius had of the sanctimonious old fool.

The neat part of the law was that even accidental effects could be counted as muggle-baiting. Although one letter on the first day, one on the second, three on the third, twelve on the fourth, twenty-four on the fifth and around a hundred on the sixth day could hardly be called accidental. Then, when the Dursleys fled another hundred letters had been sent. Only on the eighth day had someone been sent to meet them personally. That prolonged period of harassing automatically turned it from normal into aggravated, meaning the fine was far harsher… and incidentally it gave Dumbledore a criminal record.

To make things even more ironclad Dumbledore as Headmaster was responsible for all official Hogwarts mail and couldn't wriggle out of the charges like he had done with other things regarding Harry's upbringing.

Finally Dumbledore finished his drawn-out apology.

Fudge cleared his throat. "Thank you for this… illuminating speech, Chief Warlock. Has anybody any issues to bring before the Wizengamot before we adjourn?"

'_Time for the next act.'_

Lucius nodded towards Lord Partington. The man nodded back and stood up.

"The Wizengamot recognizes Lord Partington."

"I motion to remove Albus Dumbledore from his position of Chief Warlock and from the Wizengamot. A criminal has no place among us. I cite the law of Wizengamot proceeding from 1829, section two, subsection twenty-seven, paragraph twelve: No convicted criminal may hold any position in the Wizengamot for ten years after his conviction."

That created another hubbub. The old law in question was indeed still on the books, but in truth that mattered relatively little. If a sufficient number of Wizengamot members chose to ignore a law there was nothing that could be done to actually enforce it. Legality mattered, but power mattered more.

There were some crazy things put into text, but anybody relying purely on them would experience a rather nasty surprise. The tale of the wizard who imagined himself as the heir of the Founders and three dozen Houses still got many laughs more than a century after the fact. The poor fool had tried to claim three quarters of all Wizengamot seats because of some legal loopholes in inheritance law. Of course, he had been laughed out of the room. Reportedly he had gone around claiming "Hogwarts and Britain are mine by right!" until his dying day, to the great amusement of his contemporaries.

A vote was called. This vote was not as one-sided as the conviction, but Lucius and his allies still managed a comfortable majority.

"Very well. Mr. Dumbledore, you are hereby removed from the position of Chief Warlock. We thank you for your many years of service and wish you good luck in your future endeavors." Fudge said, smiling a fake smile.

All in all, it was a very bad day to be Albus Dumbledore.

Once the Wizengamot session concluded Lucius accompanied Archibald Nott and Liam Greengrass to celebrate the occasion in private at Greengrass Manor.

"To our success!"

"That went well. It was far past time for the old fool to be ousted." Lucius said after a few second of silent drinking.

"I agree, but don't be hasty. Dumbledore is down, but he isn't out yet. He might stage a comeback in a few years. We are on a good way, though." Archibald cautioned.

Liam took a sip from his glass. "Is there any chance for us to remove him as Headmaster?"

"Only if we could get a majority of the board of governors on board. How are the odds for that?"

Lucius grimaced slightly. He didn't like to be reminded of his time on the board. "That is unlikely. Almost everyone on the board is a close friend of Dumbledore. They have been content to let him run Hogwarts as he pleases for decades. The criminal conviction won't change things. We would need a bigger school-related incident than last year's string of attacks to put pressure on them."

"Hm." Greengrass tapped his fingers on the table. "Could we arrange something with the dementors? They will be around Hogwarts for some time to come. There's still no trace of Black anywhere to be found."

"Too risky. They are barely controllable at the best of times. Too many of our families have children at Hogwarts." Archibald said. "Perhaps we can use the Triwizard Tournament. It seems as if Crouch is getting his way in reinstating it. All sorts of highly embarrassing things can happen during such a dangerous game, can't they?"

The three men shared nasty smiles.

Archibald emptied his glass and refilled it. "With Dumbledore out of the way the largest stumbling block on the way to a better society is gone. We will need a few months before we can make any moves. Lucius, you are the one most familiar with the players in the Ministry. What is your impression of the government situation?"

"Fudge is a weak reed. He trusts me and will bend as long as he is allowed to stay minister and nothing untoward happens in public perception. Now, Umbridge is a different matter. A year ago I would have said she will do whatever will get her and the Ministry more power. Now I'm not as sure. Working with Amelia has changed things. The two are in a tight alliance. Together they have the Ministry in their grip and won't let go. Dumbledore's faction is still there, but increasingly diminished. Crouch retains some influence, but not overly much."

"Should we begin preparations to remove Bones or Umbridge?" Liam asked.

"I don't think so. Amelia plays by the rules. She is a stick-in-the-mud regarding laws, but she won't interfere as long as we use legal means." Archibald answered.

Lucius nodded. "I agree. She can be reasoned with and is willing to play ball. Without her help it would have taken us years to oust Dumbledore. Umbridge won't oppose any of our policies as long as the power of the bureaucracy remains untouched."

"Then we can take care of her at a later point." Archibald decided. "The Wizengamot situation is better than it was, but still not ideal. With a little luck a few more of Dumbledore's supporters will resign in protest of his ousting, although I don't think the odds are good."

"We could always remove some of them through… more direct means." Liam proposed.

The elderly Nott gave Liam a look of reproach. "That would be very foolish. We don't want any suspicious deaths at this point. Besides, with Greyback and his pack dead professional murder has become rather more difficult to acquire. Not that I mourn that rabid beast. His attack on Lucius' father has aptly shown that he was uncontrollable. Good riddance to bad rubbish I say."

Lucius remained silent, but Liam wasn't ready to let the point rest. "The Sicilian is available for commissions in Britain."

"And he charges an arm and a leg for his services. Besides, he's not ideologically aligned with us. Too risky."

"There's always Mrs. Zabini."

"She's doing it only for personal advancement these days, not that anybody can prove anything. I don't want any more contact with that viper than I can help. There are others, but they are amateurs. Thugs, not killers."

"We could do it ourselves."

Archibald slammed his hand on the table. "Stop this foolish talk, Liam. Violence would be counterproductive. It creates risks we do not need. We already hold more power than when the Dark Lord led us. Time is on our side. With our wealth we can promote the right candidates for the Wizengamot. One by one they will be replaced. Our influence in the Ministry is rising. The more we have the quicker it will go. We only need to wait."

Liam chose not to answer, but he backed down. Lucius tried to get a conversation going. He was not having much success. Finally Archibald took his leave.

Once he was gone Liam harrumphed. "Archibald is far too cautious."

"He is getting old, what do you expect?" Lucius said.

"A little more enthusiasm for the cause. That is what I expect." He emptied his glass and slammed it on the table. "If Archibald has his way we will still be working from the shadows in twenty years. I'm sick of waiting. We should take power now. Mudbloods and blood traitors are crawling everywhere, befouling everything. We should kill a few of them to make a point."

Lucius was inclined to agree, but that was a bit much even for his taste. "Don't be ridiculous. Dumbledore is still there. They will welcome him back in the blink of an eye if there is talk of a new Dark Lord. Do you want to face him in battle?" He smiled. "Of course, once he has been removed from all power things will be different."

"Right, you're right. I got carried away." They spend a few minutes in companionable silence before Liam spoke up again. "A few of the old crowd are planning a little outing during the Quidditch World Cup, just to remind everyone that we are still there. Nothing dangerous, just a show of force. Interested?"

Lucius leaned forward. "Tell me more."

Liam shrugged. "There's nothing much to it. Break out the old garb, parade around for a few minutes and then disappear. No killings, just a little property damage. That should give everyone a nice scare, but shouldn't cause anything to hinder our agenda."

"Count me in." He missed the old days. Well, parts of the old days. There had been some bad things he tried not to remember.

It was much later that Lucius returned home, his good mood restored. Everything had gone according to plan. Dumbledore had been ousted and he had driven a little wedge between Archibald and Liam. All in all it was a good day to be Lucius Malfoy.

* * *

><p>Life was boring, Aquila thought. Being penned up in the dungeons for a week had not been fun. After the mass battle in the Great Hall the general mood was rather subdued, although there had been some bragging. Considering the general attitude of Slytherins regarding Dumbledore nobody believed the old man's innocence.<p>

The rest of January had not been very interesting either. Snow, more snow and had she mentioned snow? The only events of note were Dumbledore's trial and Hagrid's departure. The old man had been sentenced to a hefty fine and been ousted as Chief Warlock, although he remained as Headmaster. Hagrid had left Hogwarts at the end of January with a tearful farewell. He was headed to Africa.

'_At least it's warmer there.'_

Wilhemina Grubbly-Plank was the new Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Draco and Daphne were both of the opinion that she was a much better teacher than Hagrid. Having had no contact worth mentioning with either Hagrid or the new teacher, Aquila had really no opinion of her own on that account.

'_On the other hand, I'm pretty sure Hagrid is responsible for the Acromantula colony in the forest.'_

It was impossible for Hagrid not to know about them since it was his duty as Hogwart's gamekeeper to take care of the Forbidden Forest. He was just the kind of person who wouldn't do anything about the spiders despite the danger they posed to the student population. Aquila actually didn't mind. Since last year she had secretly gone out hunting several times. Acromantula made good prey and nobody would miss them. She was performing a public service, really. She had even a silent agreement with the centaurs to clean up the aftermath of her hunts, at least if she interpreted the signs correctly.

Unfortunately, with all the snow clogging up the forest she couldn't go out. The snowdrifts were bigger than her. That was doubly regrettable because she doubted she would find another opportunity when a more dutiful gamekeeper was hired.

'_Boring, boring, boring.'_

Valentine 's Day was fast approaching and there was nothing to do. Schoolwork came easily to her. Socially nothing much was happening. She was unquestioningly the leader of the Slytherins in her year, helped by the fact that there were no other scions of prominent families. Her brother's relationship with Daphne seemed to slowly slide back into simple friendship without any of the parties really noticing.

On the matter of Draco's secrets she had made zero progress. Both he and Ginny had dug their heels in and refused to give any information. It was a somewhat novel experience for Aquila to not get something if she tried long and hard enough. She didn't enjoy it much.

Even Aquila's normal favorite pastime of subtly taunting Pansy Parkinson had lost its appeal. Fighting a battle of wits with someone unarmed just seemed unsporting. Half the time the older girl didn't even realize Aquila was sniping at her.

"I'm going for a walk." she announced. "You two will stay here."

Her two minions shared a look. "If you say so."

Aquila rolled her eyes. "Yes, I say so."

It was her father's doing, she was sure. The twins Flora and Hestia Carrow had been her friends for years, but lately they followed her around constantly on their family's prodding. Apparently her father thought she could use minions or something. Aquila found it very annoying.

Aquila was about to leave the dungeon area when she came face to face with another Slytherin.

"Malfoy."

"Nott."

"Walking around without your minions? How brave of you. A mean Gryffindor might attack you at any time."

"They can try. I see you left your minions behind, too."

"Sometimes a lady needs her privacy."

"True, true. It can get rather annoying. At least you got a matching pair."

"And they are of much higher quality, too."

Theo shrugged. "One has to make do with what one has. You should avoid the fourth floor. The Weasley twins and their friend Jordan are doing something there."

"Thank you for the warning." Aquila said politely before continuing on her way.

Her destination was a small courtyard at the edge of Hogwarts. The walls kept most of the snow and wind away. The biting cold made the stay outside uncomfortable, although it wasn't as if much of the castle's inside was much warmer.

Aquila sat down on the branch of a withered white tree somebody had planted here years and years ago, staring into the clouds overhead. She liked to visit this spot to think or just to get a little alone time.

Theo had been rather nice to her during the last weeks. She didn't like him especially, but she also didn't dislike him. Daphne couldn't stand him for some reason. Perhaps it had something to do with the fact that Theo was something of a leader of the Slytherin junior years and even the upper years listened to him to some degree. Daphne as a member of a junior branch of House Greengrass had to treat him nicely wether she wanted to or not.

In truth Aquila thought that Theo was rather unsuited as leader despite his cleverness. By nature he was solitary and uncomfortable with public attention. Unfortunately he had little choice. His father being the head of House Nott and the senior member of the triumvirate leading the pureblood coalition made him important in their circles. There were a lot of expectations resting on him.

'_I suppose Theo plays his role well enough given the circumstances.'_

It was something Aquila was very familiar with. Everyone expected things from her. Her parents, her grandfather, her teachers, her yearmates, the public, even most of her friends, all of them had their expectations. Only Draco, Ginny and to a degree Daphne took a true interest in who she really was. Aunt Cassiopeia had done that, too, but she was long dead.

Suddenly a dark shadow passed through the clouds overhead and a wave of despair and misery washed over Aquila. Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved one of the summer candies her brother had created and popped it into her mouth. Immediately the dark feeling receded.

'_They are growing bolder.'_

Aquila had noticed that the dementors were pushing the boundaries set for them, coming closer to the castle than they were allowed. That made her rather worried. After all, she couldn't shoot a dementor with either a spell or her crossbow and hope to achieve anything. The damned things were indestructible.

'_I should talk with Draco about it.'_

Her brother would know what to do, if there was anything they could do.

Ten minutes later Aquila had enough fresh air for the day and headed back inside. Just when she passed an intersection she heard two sets of steps coming towards her.

'_I hope those aren't the Weasley twins. I am near the fourth floor.'_

Not wanting to risk a meeting, Aquila opened the next available door and stepped into the room behind, closing the door. It was full of antique furniture and a lot of dust. Turning around, she knelt down and looked though the keyhole, trying to get a look at the people coming her way.

It was her brother and Ginny. The two didn't notice her. They stopped at the wall opposite the room she was hiding in. They discussed something, but spoke to quietly for her to make out the words. Then Ginny pulled at a nearby candleholder, turning it almost ninety degrees. The wall opened to reveal a small stairway. The two disappeared down the stairs and the wall closed behind them.

'_Why are the two sneaking around together? Ginny knows far too many secrets. I wonder…'_

Could it be that her brother had a thing going with Ginny?

* * *

><p>Rita Skeeter was not having a good day. In fact, she was not having a good month. The uproar around Dumbledore was slowly dying down and she had trouble finding something to keep it going. Normally she would have begun making things up, but Amelia Bones had been very firm on that point. At the same time she pressured Rita to come up with something new to keep up the pressure.<p>

Most of the stuff she had dug up was old news. Some of it was scandalous, yes, but it simply wasn't spectacular enough to elicit a strong reaction in today's public. Who cared about some bending of the laws from several decades ago, like allowing a werewolf to attend Hogwarts? That would be good for one or two weeks at most, if even that.

'_Where can I get more material?'_

The old man had buried his skeletons well. She was sure there were a lot of them; she was just unable to find and unearth them. It was frustrating.

Currently she was in beetle-form, perching on a wall inside the Leaky Cauldron in the hopes of catching some interesting conversations. She always did that when she didn't know what to do. There were always a lot of people here and more than once a completely innocent remark had set her on the trail towards a promising story.

Suddenly she caught something interesting. "… when I was visiting my cousin in Godric's Hollow. Bathilda just returned from her vacation in France. Didn't help much, if you ask me; she's losing it more and more."

"How old is she anyway?"

"Don't ask me; she was always there as long as I can remember."

The conversation turned to other topics, but Rita wasn't listeing anymore. Her thoughts were racing. _'Bathilda Bagshot? Isn't she the author of a lot of history books?'_

Godric's Hollow was the erstwhile dwelling place of the Dumbledore family after Albus' father had been thrown into Azkaban. Rita had already investigated the small village months ago, but unfortunately the few people old enough to remember the time had nothing to say. Bathilda had been absent for months, supposedly on a tour of Europe's health resorts. It might be a good idea to investigate again now that she was back.

Several hours later Rita left Godric's Hollow in a much better mood than the one she had arrived in. The batty old woman had been a veritable treasure trove of information. In fact, it might be better to work it into a book instead of newspaper articles. That would take longer, but the effect might be more profound.

Yes, she could already see it. _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore_. It would be her masterpiece.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's notes:<strong> Thank you for your reviews.

A (relatively) speedy update! Enjoy!


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

**Harry Potter and the Puppet of Time**

**Chapter 20**

Draco ended the spell and leant back in the chair. He felt a headache coming. "It looks like everything is as it should be. I think your mind is actually a bit better protected than my own. I'm not good enough at legilimency to say more."

Ginny nodded in acceptance before she rubbed her forehead. "Thank you. The headache is annoying."

"I know. Unfortunately there is no way to avoid it. You would need someone much more experienced than me for that."

Draco could cast the spell, yes, and he had enough skill not to act like a figurative bull in a china shop, but that was pretty much the extent of his mind-reading abilities. Part of the reason was that even with his future self's memories he just didn't seem to have much natural talent in that area of magic. Lack of practice made probably up the rest. It wasn't as if he could run around and randomly mind-probe other people.

"Are you really sure everything is alright?" Ginny asked. "I don't want to take chances."

"I'm not a mind healer, Ginny. I can check once or twice per month for another year if you want, but I doubt I will be able to catch anything but the most obvious of problems. Your split mind has healed just as Grandfather said it would, hasn't it?"

The red-headed girl nodded. "I'm worried about Dumbledore doing something. I think he looked into my mind a few times since your grandfather's death."

"You already said that. Did he do that recently?"

"No, the last time was before the Christmas holidays. I still had the double mind thing going then."

"Then I don't think you have anything to worry about." He looked at Ginny. The girl seemed a bit uneasy. "Is there anything else?"

"Yes… I mean, I'm not sure. Recently I'm getting déjà vu when doing schoolwork. Not always, but sometimes. It's as if I already know things, but only remember when I actually study them."

Draco frowned. That could be rather problematic. "Maybe they are impressions left behind by Tom Riddle? Grandfather mentioned that as a possibility, but said not to worry as long as there aren't any true memory flashes. I wish I could tell you more, but…"

"… but you aren't a mind healer." Ginny finished. "I know, but you are the closest thing to one I am able to talk with."

"I don't see an option aside from waiting and seeing what happens." Draco said after a few seconds of consideration. "If it gets worse we'll have to think of something."

Ginny didn't look happy, but she didn't offer further argument. Draco wanted to help her. He just didn't think he could.

"It's time for us to get back."

Together the pair left the secret room, making sure nobody saw them. Normally they used random rooms in abandoned sections of the castle, but the nature of the spell used meant that they were pretty much dead to the world. They couldn't risk someone stumbling over them.

Not much of note happened in the following time. School life continued as always. Days turned into weeks until finally the Easter holidays approached. The weather slowly got warmer as spring crept into the Scottish mountains, although it seemed as if winter was unwilling to let Hogwarts slip out of its grasp. The dementors probably had something to do with that.

The foul things seemed to be getting steadily closer to the castle. Draco had written his father and mother several times and prompted a few students with influential parents to do the same, but nothing had come of it. For some Merlin-forsaken reason the Ministry seemed dead-set on keeping the dementors in place. Even the older Draco had never found out why. He really hoped it wouldn't end with someone's soul getting sucked out.

One day Draco was sitting in a courtyard together with Morag, Daphne, Stephen and a few other people. It was a rare sunny day and the group wanted to spend some time outside before the afternoon classes resumed.

Draco offered a bag full of his summer candies. "Does anyone want any candies? These are the last remaining."

"Always." "Sure." "Thanks, Draco."

An old voice intruded. "Might I ask for a sample as well, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco jumped in surprise. Somehow Dumbledore had managed to sneak up on them. He immediately caught himself, cutting off all suspicious thoughts and hiding them in the depths of his mind. "Of course, sir."

Dumbledore popped the sweet into his mouth. After a few seconds he sighed. "Ah, the taste of summer." He scrutinized Draco over the edge of his glasses. "Alchemical candies, Mr. Malfoy? A worthy pursuit, but aren't you a trifle young for delving into the mysteries of alchemy? It is a very difficult and dangerous art, after all."

"I only dabble, sir. I wouldn't think of making anything more advanced. The candies are absolutely harmless, both in creation and consumption."

"Quite so. I started with them as well, although I bound the crispness of spring instead of the richness of summer." For a few seconds Dumbledore seemed to be looking into the distance at something only he could see, a fond smile playing around his lips. Then his attention returned to the present. "Mr. Malfoy, if you decide to continue the pursuit of the art I hope to see you in my alchemy class in a few years. So few people show any interest these days. They are open to anyone who passed the OWLs, although I dare say you will require much knowledge in potions, herbology and transfiguration to make sense of the topic."

"I'm planning on it. I already look forward to it, sir."

"I'm glad to hear that, my boy. Well, I have taken up enough of your time. Have a good day."

"That was strange." Morag remarked when Dumbledore had disappeared.

Draco shrugged. "Not really. The Headmaster is probably the best alchemist in Britain, not that that is saying much. Frankly, I expected him to ask me much earlier in the year. It isn't as if I made a secret of the candies."

When they returned to class Draco still thought about Dumbledore in addition to checking if the old man had invaded his mind – which didn't seem to be the case. After the conviction of muggle baiting much life seemed to have gone out of the Headmaster, making him look much frailer and older. In a way Draco pitied the old man. His life's reputation was being destroyed.

Ginny thought Dumbledore evil. Draco disagreed as he generally tried to avoid thinking in categories of good and evil. He was much more concerned with intended effect and likelihood of success to reach that effect.

As far as the older Draco had been able to tell Dumbledore was honestly convinced that his way was the right way and gave the best result for everyone involved. It wasn't as if he did it for purely selfish reasons or just to be an evil bastard. It probably cost him a great deal of internal struggle to act the way he did regarding Harry and Ginny. Of course, he was mistaken and did a great deal of damage to their society in the process, both by his active influence and his inaction in other matters. Some of it had been completely nonsensical.

Draco had only to think of the other Draco's sixth year. While trying to murder Dumbledore on Voldemort's orders this other, rather pathetic version of him had almost killed several students as collateral damage, used the Imperius-curse on at least one person and presented a clear danger to the student body at large. Heck, when he finally succeeded in bringing Death Eaters into the castle it was a miracle that nobody had died.

Dumbledore had done absolutely nothing to stop him. As far as Draco could piece together that had been because of a combination of 'he was only a child', 'was forced to do it by Voldemort' and 'could be redeemed'. That mindset had persisted even after Dumbeldore's death, meaning the other Draco had gotten off scot-free when Voldemort was finally defeated. The same had been true for a lot of other people involved… and it had set up the next round of civil war about twenty-five years later.

The other Draco had profited from that enormously, but from a broader perspective that mindset and policy was extremely poisonous, especially because Dumbledore was in a position to spread it widely.

It was more dangerous to be Dumbledore's friend than his enemy. The old man would endanger his charges and sacrifice his allies for little, uncertain or no gain. Guarding the prophecy in the Department of Mysteries instead of simply destroying the orb or the insanity that was the Seven Potter Plan came to mind.

Sometimes Draco wondered what exactly was going on in the Headmaster's head. That would have been a case study for the mind healers, Draco was sure. Dumbledore was the most powerful wizard in Britain at the current time. If he had wanted to he would have been easily able to outright murder many of Voldemort's inner circle after Harry witnessed the resurrection without anyone being able to stop him.

With the inner circle gone Voldemort would pretty much lose the ability to garner support in Britain. While still the second most powerful wizard in the land, alone he couldn't do much besides terrorist strikes. Without a support structure he would be hunted down sooner rather than later.

Draco loved his dead grandfather, but he was well aware that very many people would rightfully consider him an evil man had they known all of his actions. Had he been in Dumbledore's position… well, the second Voldemort war would never have happened. Neither would the organized murder of muggleborns and halfbloods in the time of Voldemort's control over the Ministry.

The Horcrux Hunt, Dumbledore's final scheme had required extreme luck and unforeseeable factors to succeed. Even with all Horcruxes destroyed Voldemort would still have been alive if things had gone slightly differently.

Another problem was that Dumbledore trusted nobody else with complete information, making all decisions on his own. That was a trap Draco feared as well. It would be only too easy to become someone who took no counsel and caused great harm to his own goals, not to mention collateral damage. Draco was feeling the weight of his knowledge more and more.

He had kept secrets from his grandfather. He kept secrets from his friends. It was only too easy to go down a bad path because there was nobody who could and would say 'this is wrong' or 'that is an idiotic way of doing things'.

'_If only we were older…' _he thought when he glanced at Morag.

Draco would like to trust his friends. He needed to talk with someone about his plans, but there were all so young. One slip at the wrong time was all it would take to bring everything crashing down. Ginny knew the most due to simple necessity, but she knew far from all.

'_I can only hope that nothing urgent comes up. Well, it isn't as if I can do much at the current time.' _He sighed mentally_. 'At least I can go home soon. I miss Mother.'_

* * *

><p>"Make yourself at home, Harry. For the Easter holidays my house is your house."<p>

"Thank you, sir. I will."

"Please, there's no need for the formality when we are in private. Call me Cornelius."

"Umm, okay."

Harry looked around curiously once the man had left. The bedroom looked unused. It was a bit smaller than the room he had lived in Bones Manor, but not by much. After shoving his trunk into a corner, Harry sat down on the bed.

All this was due to his new trio of guardians. The winter holidays he had spent at Bones Manor with his friends Susan and Hannah. Easter was Minister Fudge's turn. During the beginning of summer he was supposed to stay with the Malfoys.

'_I still can't believe I won't see the Dursleys ever again.'_

Vernon, Petunia and Marge had ended up in prison. Dudley had been placed with a foster family. All had been made to forget magic and Harry's existence. As far as the muggle records were concerned he had spent his childhood in an entirely different part of the country. In a way it was scary how easily wizards could control the muggles and make them do something. Awesome, but scary.

Soon Harry was called down for dinner. It was a small affair, with only him and Cornelius Fudge there. The Minister for Magic was a portly little man with a penchant for pinstriped cloaks. He didn't leave a positive impression with Harry when he met him after he ran away from Privet Drive during the last summer, but now he seemed to put in quite a bit of effort to make up for it as they spoke about things to do during the holidays.

"Do I really have to?" Harry asked when visiting a big party came up. "When I stayed with Madam Bones there wasn't anything like that."

Fudge set down the cutlery he was holding. "The people want to see you, Harry, make sure you are okay. Madam Bones argued back in the winter that everything was still too fresh and would put you under too much pressure, but now that everything is cleared up you have to act like every young man of your social standing. That means appearing on public events. Neither the Boy-who-lived nor the last Potter can just live as nobodies."

"Can't I be just Harry?"

The Minister sighed. "I fear you can't, not considering your role in You-know-who's downfall. It was a bad time back then, Harry. You young people can't imagine how bad. I don't want to think about how it would have ended without you."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. You brought You-know-who low. Without him the Death Eaters fell apart." He turned around to stare into the fireplace. "I was the Head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes towards the end of the war. I saw more than most of the aftermath of the various attacks. Terrible, terrible times…"

For a few moments Fudge was looking at someone only he could see in the flames, his eyes unfocussed. Then he shook his head. "Please excuse me, Harry, I was lost in thought. Bad memories, you understand."

Harry nodded. "Of course, si-… Cornelius." He had some bad memories of his own. The basilisk… Quirrel… the Dursleys…

They talked about a few harmless topics until they returned to the upcoming party. "Harry, can you tell me what bothers you so much about this? I just don't understand your objections."

Harry didn't know how to answer that at first. "It… It's the attention. I just don't know how to deal with that." he finally got out.

The older man eyed him with a thoughtful expression. "Yes, of course, there was nobody to teach how things work outside of Hogwarts. Madam Bones' niece is such a shy girl and hasn't been in society much. Well, it seems it falls to me to show you the ropes. There are ways to manage public impressions. Perhaps the most important lesson is to always keep your composure."

They spend the rest of the day practicing grimaces before the mirror. The Minister had an astounding repertoire of facial expression and talent to change his voice according to the image he wanted to project. On the next day Fudge showed him way to carry himself and how he had to act towards certain people. Harry thought most of it was bollocks, but he kept that to himself.

In the end the party wasn't quite as bad as Harry had feared. Yes, he was passed around like an especially interesting animal, but thankfully some of his housemates from Hogwarts stood ready to rescue him before he started to scream in frustration.

When the Easter holidays drew to a close Harry came to the conclusion that Cornelius Fudge wasn't actually that bad. He had still not forgiven him for throwing Hagrid into Azkaban in second year, but when Harry complained about the Dementors drawing ever closer to Hogwarts Fudge seemed to take him seriously. Perhaps the Hagrid matter had simply been a mistake.

* * *

><p>"Draco?"<p>

"Yes, Daphne?"

"When was the last time we did something as a couple?"

"That was… let me think a second…"

Daphne waited in silence while Draco began frowning as he thought. She already knew it had been around the middle of April that they had spent time together as anything resembling boyfriend and girlfriend. Now it was June and she had only realized that fact when Tracey Davis asked her about it.

At some point along the way she and Draco had simply returned to being friends. They stopped kissing and holding hands. The flutter in her stomach was no longer there. Daphne still enjoyed Draco's company, but no longer in that way.

Draco had finally finished his attempt to recall the information Daphne had asked for. "Um, I think that was the third week of April? When we visited Hogsmeade together? After that we never went alone." He looked surprised at himself. "Huh, I didn't notice it had been that long."

"Me neither."

"Then I suppose we aren't really a couple anymore." Draco said hesitantly after a few awkward seconds. "I'm sorry?"

Daphne nodded. It was a strange feeling. She knew that she had loved Draco. Now she didn't. Well, she still loved him as a dear friend, but it wasn't the same. "Merlin, this is awkward. Isn't a couple supposed to have a tearful breakup when they can't stay together any longer?"

Draco shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

Another few seconds of awkward silence followed.

"What do we do now?"

"I don't know." Draco repeated himself. "Do we have to do something? How about we just continue being friends? Maybe the feelings will come back?"

"Maybe." Then she added hesitantly. "Would you mind if I date someone else in future? Would that bother you? Not that I have anyone, I just want to know your opinion."

Draco seemed to think for several seconds, his attention focused inwards. "I don't think I would mind seeing you with another boy. Strange. I would not have expected that. How about you?"

Seeing Draco with another girl… it didn't really bother her when she thought about it. The situation was almost surreal. She had never imaged a relationship ending on such a quiet note while the friendship persisted. Nor would she have expected having such a conversation with her ex-boyfriend. "I wouldn't mind, either. Well, at least if she isn't some chit who only wants to use you."

Draco smiled at that and held out his hand. "Friends?"

Daphne smiled and took it. "Friends."

* * *

><p>Aquila watched the tragedy for several minutes. It was the same as yesterday. Then she sighed theatrically, making her presence known. "You won't achieve anything that way, you know."<p>

Harry flinched before turning around. "How long have you been watching me?"

"Long enough. Is that supposed to be a dance?"

"Draco showed me the steps, but, well…"

"I see. Something has to be done. If this is all you can do you will be humiliated at the Midsummer Ball. It's important to make a good showing, especially because it will be your first. That leaves only one thing to do." She stepped closer to him and held out her arms. "Let's do this. Take my hand."

Harry only gaped at her.

"You will be catching flies if you don't close your mouth." she said after a few seconds.

Harry's mouth snapped shut. "What?" he finally managed to get out.

Aquila rolled her eyes. Then she stepped even closer and put her arms akimbo while looking directly into Harry's eyes. "You don't know to dance. I will teach you. Now man up and get ready."

Harry tried to say something, but failed. His eyes roamed around the room unsteadily while avoiding meeting hers, making it seem as if he was looking for a way to escape. Apparently he was in that phase when he was getting extremely nervous around girls. It was funny to see the black-haired boy squirm, Aquila found.

When Harry made no effort to take her up on her offer she decided to take matters into her own hands and reached out. Harry backed away. She continued approaching him and he backed away further until his back hit the wall of the room. Considering that Harry was almost a head taller than her the image they presented was probably immensely comical.

A sudden flash made Harry blink, but Aquila had expected it.

"Hixy did as young mistress asked." a tinny voice sounded from the door.

"Excellent. You did well, Hixy."

"What was that?" Harry asked when the house elf popped away.

Aquila smiled sweetly. "Oh, I wanted to keep your reaction for posterity."

Before Harry could say anything Aquila took his hands in her own and positioned them correctly for the dance Harry had been trying to learn. Harry immediately seized up, but when Aquila started moving he followed.

Really, boys were so predictable. _'You would think Harry would be more used to girls considering that he hangs out with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot the entire time.'_

Then again, both girls were shy, Susan especially, and didn't really seem to have noticed boys as such. Justin Finch-Fletchley, Harry's closest friend, didn't seem to have developed interest in girls yet, either. Harry began to show interest, but clearly he was at a loss how to handle such things. If she could help him getting more used to such things she would do so… and all the while having her fun.

Aquila was aware that she was one of the prettiest girls at Hogwarts and the effect she had on some boys. Teasing and flirting was something she enjoyed, although her mother had warned her about going too far.

Discomforting Harry was fun, but she didn't intend to tease him too much. He might get the idea that she was interested in him and that simply wasn't the case. Theodore had become more obvious in paying his attentions during the last months and persistence should be rewarded.

Once Hogwarts started Aquila intended to give him what he wanted, namely becoming his girlfriend. She could do worse for a first boyfriend and he had been quite nice. He and Pansy were betrothed, but that meant very little. They certainly weren't a couple in the romantic sense.

"Sorry." Harry said when he suddenly stepped on her toes.

"I barely felt it. A permanent cushioning charm has been cast on the shoes. I believe in preparation."

They continued practicing for over three hours before she let Harry get some rest and returned to her room to freshen up. Then she began to search for her brother. They had the manor to themselves and it was never easy to find him.

Mother and Father were almost constantly away, working on their political connections. Apparently they were some arguments about who was in charge and which faction should get what positions now that many Dumbledore supporters had been removed from the Ministry. From what she gathered the situation was rather serious.

Draco was playing around with his alchemy stuff every time he got an unsupervised moment. It was really quite abominable how her brother neglected Harry and very out of character for him. Aquila suspected he had some new, important plot going on. Unfortunately he was holding tight. It was frustrating that he wouldn't share his secrets even with his own sister, but all her attempts had come to nothing. She wouldn't go to their parents about it, but she was slowly running out of ideas.

Finally she managed to track down Draco when he just entered the house. "Where have you been? I had to entertain Harry all alone… again."

"Doing alchemy. Experimenting"

"Oh? And what exactly are those experiments that take up so much time?"

"This and that."

That was another non-answer. Draco was blocking her again. She just couldn't stand it any longer. There was a metaphorical final arrow in her quiver she hadn't used yet. Perhaps now was the time to use it and see if that broke through her brother's countenance.

"Are you and Ginny Weasley a couple?" Aquila asked.

For a moment it seemed as if Draco didn't understand the question. Then he began to sputter. "WHAT? No, we aren't. There isn't anything going on between us."

Aquila put on a skeptical expression. "So you say. I don't believe you. I know you spent time with her away from everyone when you were still seeing Daphne. What am I supposed to think?"

Draco's eyes narrowed and he calmed down. Apparently he was catching on. Then his expression changed and he sighed. Suddenly he looked very tired and much older than his years. In fact, to Aquila he looked almost as tired as her Black relatives and Grandfather and they had been very old people. It was very unsettling and she wondered if she had gone too far.

"That was a low blow. It is just I have to help her with something. I'm very sorry, sister, but I can't tell you. I want to, but I just can't. Too much depends on everything going smoothly in the near future. One word in the wrong ear and everything will go to pieces."

"What are you talking about?"

"I know things I have no right of knowing. It is such a burden. I wouldn't wish it on anyone."

Now he was really unsettling her. "Can't you get help?"

Draco gave her a sad, bitter smile. "What adult can I trust? Grandfather knew some of it, but I learned most of it only once he was dead. Mother and Father would use what I know to advance their own agenda and probably ruin us all in the process. Unfortunately most of the other adults we have access to would take exactly the opposite course of action from what is needed."

Suddenly something clicked in Aquila's mind. "Is this about You-know-who?"

"Yes. Him and others." Draco turned to look out of the window. "He is still, well not alive, but still there as some sort of wraith. He possessed Quirrel in my first year. Harry took him out, but he will return."

Aquila suddenly felt very cold. "Harry never talked about that."

"I suspect he was compelled not to, the same as his three friends. They were there, although not for the final part. Nobody would listen to Justin and Hannah isn't from an important family either, but if Susan had told her aunt that Dumbledore deliberately created a trap for You-know-who at Hogwarts? That would have consequences." He looked thoughtful. "On the other hand, maybe Madam Bones does know by now. That would explain why she allied with Umbridge and Father."

"How do you know that? Why are you telling me this now?"

Draco gave her a tired look. "I probably shouldn't, but you simply won't give it a rest. I'm tired, sister. I need someone to check my plans and conclusions, assuring that I don't go off the deep end. Currently I can only hope that I'm doing the right thing."

"Why can't I be the one?"

Her brother made to answer, then stopped and gave her a thoughtful look. "Tell you what, if you manage to master occlumency enough by the end of summer I will tell you before we return to Hogwarts. Not everything, but what is relevant to our current situation. You probably won't thank me once you know. I want you to promise me something in return. Firstly, please don't ask again or tell anyone. Secondly, can you make sure Harry feels at home and fits into our society? I would do it myself, but I'm working on something really important and just don't have the time."

'_Well, that is progress, at long last.'_

"I promise." She paused. "Although I'm already doing the second part. Harry really needs help with his dancing."

Draco patted her shoulder. "I'm sure you are doing a good job."

Aquila smiled. "I have the elves taking pictures."

The days to the midsummer ball passed by in a rush. Harry needed help with so many things. It was as if he didn't know in the slightest how to move and behave in society.

Normally Aquila's mother and father would have done something about it, but both were just so _busy_. Apparently several families were growing restless, threatening to dissolve their political coalition now that they had achieved victory. They wanted their spoils after lasting through the political battle of last year. Umbridge was always trying to grab more power and nobody really knew what Madam Bones was up to. Her father ranted long and hard about Crouch, who was trying to get back into the spotlight by organizing the Quidditch World Cup and reviving the Triwizard Tournament.

In the end the Midsummer Ball was a full success. Thanks to her tutoring Harry managed to make an adequate showing. Susan Bones and Neville Longbottom were there for the first time, too, and both behaved themselves as according to their station.

Aquila enjoyed herself, but making sure that Harry behaved appropriately was quite tiring.

'_I wonder if that is how Mother felt when she had to shepherd us …'_

* * *

><p>'<em>That utter fool…'<em>

Draco wordlessly stared at the image showing the full Death Eater garb draped over the wooden mannequin. He had really hoped his father would be smarter this time around, but no. Lucius was polishing his mask right now, looking like he was humming a ditty.

Shaking his head in disgust, Draco waved his hand and the image in the silver bowl returned to a simple reflection. His scrying ability was slowly but surely improving. If he had been trying to look through the protective spells from the outside things would have been much different, but the progress was still clear.

'_And to think it took the other me decades to discover that he even had the talent…'_

The other him had never taken divination classes and Trelawney didn't teach that aspect anyway. It was always about the future with her. Oh, much of it was buried in some books in the Hogwarts library, but he would never have thought of trying it out. There were far too many different magical skills and techniques to try them all out.

The Quidditch World Cup was coming up and it seemed as if the Death Eater raid was still about to happen. Unfortunately there wasn't anything Draco could do about it. There was another possible opportunity, though: Bartemius Crouch junior would possibly be there.

He didn't know if Barty would actually be there. He didn't know if he would free himself from the Imperius. He didn't know if he would cast the dark mark. It was still the best opportunity to remove the rabid Death Eater from the game… permanently. That would throw a wrench into Voldemort's resurrection. Hopefully Barty could be removed without tarnishing Crouch senior. That man would be useful to keep around.

Of course, all that neglected to mention the biggest problem: Draco would have to personally kill another human… and he wasn't sure if he could do it. His older self had mentioned the possibility, but didn't rate it as very urgent. Draco disagreed. If he could head off Voldemort's restoration to full power he would do so. His older self might not have cared about dozens of innocent witches and wizards dying, but the young him couldn't and wouldn't accept that.

'_No sense fretting about it now. I will try to do it. I only have to set up things in a way that I can back out if it turns out I can't do it.'_

The last days before the Quidditch World Cup passed quickly. Draco hid a wand from the family collection in his robes and appropriated a set of Aquila's night-vision goggles, but took no other potentially suspicious actions apart from keeping his alchemy project going. Once finished it should take care of that nasty Goblet of Fire, but the substance he needed was extremely difficult to create. It required very precise timing in between the steps. Unfortunately that had caused him to neglect Harry a bit while he was staying with them.

Draco would have liked to tip off the Ministry about the upcoming raid, but with his father among the Death Eaters he didn't want to risk it. Lucius getting into legal trouble would be very bad for his own future.

On the day of the game the Malfoys arrived at the enormous Quidditch Stadium via portkey. It was the largest gathering of wizards Draco had ever seen. Quidditch was very popular across Europe. In addition, it drew a considerable crowd from other countries who wanted to see what those wacky Europeans were up to.

While Draco personally didn't care for Quidditch in the slightest visiting the World Cup was just the thing to be done. He didn't dislike it either, so he considered it a day well spent.

Draco's family had prime seats in the Top Box, of course. A few familiar faces were already there.

"Hey, Harry, Susan, Hannah, Justin."

The Hufflepuff Quartet greeted him in return. "Hey, Draco, Aquila."

After spending the beginning of the summer with Draco's family Harry had moved on to live with the Bones at the mid of July. Aside from a few encounters at parties and other social occasions Draco had not really met wither either Harry or Susan since then.

Draco was about to talk with them a bit more, but his father pulled him along to talk with some people from Bulgaria. Minister Fudge, both Notts and Daphne's uncle were already engaged in conversation, although Draco got the impression that Theo was only there to keep up appearances and be seen. Just like Draco, in a way. They shared an understanding look as soon as the attention of the adults turned away from them. Sometimes belonging to an important family was suffering, especially as the Bulgarian Minister pretended not to understand English.

Draco took note of how Theo was paying special attention to his sister. He had done that for several months. Draco didn't mind particularly. Someone would have to be Aquila's first boyfriend and Theo was better than a lot of others. Draco trusted him to be honorable enough to not push Aquila into anything she didn't want.

Finally the torture ended and they could take their seats.

'_Crouch's house elf is here. Excellent.'_ he thought when he spotted the small creature.

The seat to the side appeared to be empty. For now Draco did nothing about it. He would need to be unobserved to do anything.

The teams were different from what the older Draco's memories showed. The Bulgarians were still there (albeit with three different players), but they were not playing against the Irish. Instead the French had taken their place.

It was only the last in a series of changes Draco was beginning to notice. Starting from about age seven, he had watched different children being born. Most of the adult world showed considerable inertia, but by now the changes were adding up. It didn't say good things about the continued accuracy of his future knowledge.

Suddenly Draco realized what that meant for the team mascots, a fact that somehow had escaped his notice before. _'Oh Merlin, that's twice the Veela.'_

The mascots didn't disappoint. They were… distracting, to say the least. Harry and Justin were pretty badly affected and tried to jump right from the box into the stadium. Susan and Hannah barely managed to stop them.

Most of the other males in the Top Box were affected to a degree or another, but nobody lost control and made a fool of themselves. The rest of the stadium was a madhouse. Even after both Veela mascot teams left it didn't get any quieter.

Draco had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. _'Quidditch fans.'_

Then the game started. Draco paid barely any attention to the players. Instead he observed the other people in the box. He didn't want to miss his opportunity.

The French made the first points and quickly consolidated their lead. Then the fouls started happening. One was apparently particularly egregious because even the people in the Top Box jumped to their feet, shouting. It was the perfect opportunity. Draco removed the second wand from his cloak and cast a basic tracking spell at the seemingly empty seat beside the house elf, the mumbled words disappearing in the background of shouts.

Draco did pay a bit more attention to the game after that. At least it took his mind off from what would happen in a few hours. He could appreciate the flying skills, but the rest of the game held very little appeal for him. A glance at Harry showed Draco that the black-haired boy was completely enthralled by the match, though.

'_Well, it seems as if somebody will try to join the Hufflepuff Quidditch team next year.'_

It had been only a question of time, Draco supposed. In the end he was fairly neutral about the matter. His first year intervention's main purpose had simply to prevent Harry from standing out and preventing the faculty from gaining additional leverage over him.

Finally the game ended when the Bulgarian seeker Krum caught the snitch. The final score was one hundred eighty to one hundred forty in favor for the Bulgarians.

'_Another divergence.'_

Draco struggled to maintain his composure through the next hours. He was always surrounded by a throng of important families, Ministry members and foreign visitors of note. He had more important things to worry about, but unfortunately his parents' and family's standing required him to play along.

The time until they retired to their tent seemed endless, but finally his mother extracted him and Aquila from the gathering. Lucius was talking with Daphne's uncle Liam and gave them a nod when they left the big tent.

"How did you like the Quidditch World Cup?" Narcissa asked when they were in the privacy of their tent.

Draco shrugged. "It was alright, I guess. Too loud."

"Until the fouls started the game was quite boring, if you ask me." Aquila said.

Their mother quirked an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Don't let your father hear that. He isn't the most fanatic Quidditch fan, but he does like the game."

Privately Draco suspected his father only liked Quidditch to spite his grandfather, but he kept that thought to himself.

"Be that as it may, try to get some rest. We will have to leave in about four hours."

Aquila was clearly confused. "Why? We could have returned home immediately. Why bring the tent in the first place?"

Draco's mother sighed. "To keep up appearances. Lucius is planning on doing something very stupid with some of his old 'friends'." The last word had considerable venom applied to it. "I have been unable to persuade him to relent." She turned towards Draco. "You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not. I saw you-know-what in father's study. He isn't as careful as he should be."

Narcissa looked at the ceiling. "Why am I not surprised? Sometimes you are too clever by half, Draco. Back to the matter at hand, gather anything you don't want to lose. The elves will transport it back to the manor. The tent might not survive the night."

By now Aquila had apparently caught on. "By father's old friends you mean…?"

"Better not to speak the name, but yes, I'm referring to a group with a penchant for silver masks in the shape of skulls." She raised her hand. "No discussion. Simply do as I said."

Draco actually managed to get three hours of sleep until his mother woke him again. A quick check in an unobserved moment showed that Crocuh jr. was still somewhere in the tent city. Apparently the older Crouch had not found the time to return his imperiused son to his home.

The outside had grown silent as even the most ardent revelers had turned in for the night. It meant nobody noticed when Draco left with his mother and sister. Soon they reached the edge of the forest.

'_This is my chance.'_

"I'll try to find some of my friends and warn them. They shouldn't be caught unawares. I'll be back soon." Draco shouted.

Before his mother could react Draco ducked into the undergrowth and started running.

"Draco! Come back here!"

He didn't pay any attention to the shout. Instead he continued running. Not even a minute had passed before shouts erupted in the tent city and lights began to appear. The Death Eater parade had begun.

Once Draco was at a safe distance he put the night-vision goggles he had swiped from Aquila over his eyes. Then he took his second wand in hand, casting the spell to point him into the direction of his target. It was currently at the edge of the tent area and about to move deeper into the woods. He immediately took up pursuit.

It took Draco long minutes until he spotted his target in the distance. Crouch's house elf was fighting with something invisible. Suddenly the small creature was thrown away and collided with a tree, slumping to the ground dazed. A clump of bushes rustled as someone invisible forced his way through.

Carefully walking closer, Draco stunned the house elf as soon as he could hit her reliably. It wouldn't do for her to interfere. Then he followed Crouch junior who seemed to have stopped moving.

'_There.'_

Crouch was standing in the center of a clearing with only his head and arm visible, looking into the sky and apparently talking to himself.

Draco felt his wand hand shaking. This was it, the moment of truth. If he could manage to take Crouch out it might turn the entire Voldemort situation around, preventing dozens of deaths. All it would take was a simple spell to end a man's life… and he still wavered.

Suddenly Crouch seemed to come to a decision and raised his wand. "Morsmor-"

"Sectumsempra!" Draco said and slashed his wand crisscross, putting all his willpower behind the spell.

Apparently Crouch noticed Draco's incantation. He stopped his spell and was in the process of turning around when Draco's spell hit. The man immediately came apart in a grisly shower of blood and gore. His head, arms and legs fell off, each cleaved into at least three pieces. Crouch's now visible torso was criss-crossed by deep wounds.

Draco blinked in astonishment and looked at his wand, then back at the corpse. He felt eerily calm. "Well, that had more of a punch than I thought it would."

He had chosen Snape's spell because of its effectiveness and because he was fairly sure he didn't have enough power to make the killing curse or other immediately deathly spells work. Snape had done extraordinarily good work in creating that spell.

Draco was still feeling strangely calm as he approached the corpse. A spell his older self had sent him reduced the body to ashes in the blink of an eye. Still feeling calm, Draco tucked the extra wand away. His work here was done.

He turned around, intending to get back to his family. Then he stopped.

His mother and sister were standing under the trees, panting and looking at him with the same type of nightvision goggles on their heads he was wearing.

"Draco! What have you done?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong> Sorry for the long delay. During the last months I often lacked the inspiration to write, but at long last I managed to finish the chapter.

So long.


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